


Amorous Illusions

by BittersweetAlias, KimpatsuNoHoseki



Series: Harem of a Necromancer [13]
Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, Harem, LOTS of violence, Language, M/M, M/M/M/M, Politics of the vampire kind, Slash pairing, vague mentions of non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:55:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 130,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25077997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BittersweetAlias/pseuds/BittersweetAlias, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimpatsuNoHoseki/pseuds/KimpatsuNoHoseki
Summary: Harry finds himself once again caught up in preternatural games of politics and dominance, and with the ardeur riding him, it’s hard to keep control. Meanwhile, there are serial murders that need to be stopped. Harry is trying to be everything to everybody, and when Jean-Claude goes too far, well promises are promises.Warnings: M/M/M/M, Slash Pairing, Explicit Sexual Content, Harem, Vague mentions of non-con, Politics of the vampire kind, Lots of violence, Language, and other such things that would see Anita Blake and Harry Potter books and worlds clashing together.Co-Author & Beta: KimpatsuNoHoseki <3
Relationships: Damian (Anita Blake)/Requiem (AnitaBlake)/Byron (Anita Blake)/Harry Potter, Micah Callahan/Edward (Anita Blake)/Jean-Claude (Anita Blake)/Harry Potter, mentions of Marcus Fletcher/Harry Potter
Series: Harem of a Necromancer [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1532249
Comments: 434
Kudos: 851





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> (BittersweetAlias' name will show up once she accepts the co-author notification)

“Papa! You made it.” Micah caught Teddy as the nine-year-old ran and jumped at the man. He was getting bigger, but hardly weighed enough for Micah to be taxed. It wasn’t often that school was still hopping at this time of the evening.

“Hey Pup, am I the first?” Micah grinned behind the sunglasses. He was wearing a chartreuse silk button down, and a pair of snug fitting denim jeans. His chocolate brown hair braided with only a couple pieces dangling on each side of his delicate features. 

“Yah, but it’s okay. Parrain told my teacher that he had an appointment at 7:00 so wouldn’t be here until after 8 o’clock.” Teddy wrapped his arms around Micah, rubbing his face into the wereleopard’s neck scenting him. His legs, in a pair of dark cargo trousers with plenty of pockets on each side for snacks, were looped tightly around Micah’s waist. Micah grinned to see him in a short-sleeved yellow shirt that had a white silhouette of a leopard stretching from his front to his back so that he had to turn around before you got the whole picture. That, paired with his soft brown hoodie that had wolf ears on the hood, really showed his family love. 

“Did you get your homework completed while waiting?”

“Yup, ate the food you set aside for me this morning too. Thank you, Papa.” Teddy reached into one of his pant pockets and handed Micah an empty wrapper as proof. 

“Always.” Micah smiled while placing the empty wrapper into his own pocket to be thrown out later.

“There you two are.” Micah leaned back into the chest that pressed up against him. “Alpha, Kid.”

“Hi Dad.” Teddy grinned up at Edward as the man ran a hand up Teddy’s back. 

“Gardien, didn’t think you’d come to this.” Micah looked over his shoulder to see Edward wearing a matching set of cargo pants to Teddy with a tight camo t-shirt under his beige trenchcoat. 

“And miss Little Raven’s face burning while explaining? Never.” Edward hid a grin against Micah’s cheek as he casually dropped a kiss upon it. The man had been doing that more and more lately. Micah and Jean-Claude loved the thought that the sociopath was trying to show that he loved them like he loved Harry. Even if he didn’t say it.

Teddy glanced out of a nearby window as the skies continued to darken. He wished it got dark more often, “Do you think Père will make it?”

“Toy won’t miss this, kid. He’ll be along soon.” Edward assured the boy as more working men and women started arriving. It was a good thing that the school allowed students to stay afterwards as long as parents and guardians had provided an evening meal as well as lunch to the students. “Were you here by yourself?” 

“Nope. A lot of kids stayed after. It didn’t make sense to go home. I’ve been playing and then I helped the teacher in the library sort the books,” said Teddy proudly. 

They all knew the moment that Jean-Claude arrived. Everyone recognized the local celebrity. Whispers of the Master of the City spread across the room like fire on oil. Some of the parents were a little nervous, others were intrigued. It was always a mixed bag. Edward and Micah both turned towards the far doors leading to the parking lot as the vampire stepped around one couple entering the room. Teddy twisted in Micah’s arms enough to watch Jean-Claude glide through the room.

Men and women were flat-out staring with their mouths half open at the tight dark grey leather pants and tight red satin ruffled shirt casped at the throat by a heart-shaped onyx pin. Most of them turning a matching brilliant shade of red. A couple children just stared open mouthed at the shocking sight. One mother even covered her child’s eyes; as if trying to shield them from how hot the vampire looked.

“Mon Chaton, Petit Loup, and  Tueur d'Ombre, all we are missing is mon Amour . ”

“No seducing my teachers,  Père.”

“Non. I have all I need already.” Jean-Claude purred reaching out a hand to caress Teddy’s cheek. Before anyone could react, Jean-Claude pulled Edward and Micah into quick kisses in succession. “The only one we need to worry about is mon Amour. Did you feed him before he left for his appointment?”

“Of course, we both did.” Micah grinned. “Made sure to leave him fully stuffed.”

“I was fed too!” said Teddy innocently, not knowing exactly what they meant. Micah chuckled as Teddy got back on his feet, and wrapped around Jean-Claude. 

They were standing in the hallway near the classroom full to bursting with more than a dozen children and parents arriving. Several of them had looks of irritation and exhaustion on their face. Only a few of them seemed happy. It was the end of the year conference before the last day of school. After the assassin incident, Harry and all of them carefully chose Teddy’s new school. One of the biggest criteria that they had looked for was one that concerned religious freedom, and not having children pressed by strangers and teachers about what they believe and how it was wrong or right. 

Harry had wanted a neutral stance. One in which all were respected, even those who did not believe. Edward wanted the safest and had grilled the principal and staff about their safety procedures. Micah and Jean-Claude wanted creative and peaceful. Something where a child could learn at any pace and never be demonized for it. Of all of them, Micah remembered his time most clearly in the normal American school system. Harry’s experience was not exactly normal. Of course, Harry definitely wanted no tolerance for bullying. 

Jean-Claude had initially suggested private school, but all of them nixed this idea when most of them revolved around religion, and some of their policies had mortified Harry. So they chose a creative arts elementary school. It helped that there were cameras everywhere, and the office was in the front behind a glass wall that could see everyone coming and going at all times. All parents and guardians entering the school had to get a temporary ID badge, and they could only get a badge if they could prove they have that right to enter. 

Teddy would only be there for a couple more years before going to Ilvermorny, but it was a place for Teddy to meet those his age, gather his social skills, and just be free to be a happy kid without scorn over every little thing. For instance, this school approved of the magical arts and talents, and so Teddy’s metamorphmagus abilities had been accepted so long as he didn’t abuse them. 

Today, Teddy had chosen to take pieces of all his fathers with the exception of his heart-shaped face so that he would be recognizable with only a small change in his cheeks and chin to look like Edward. His hair was a shoulder length curly brown that was tied in a ponytail at the base of his neck. His eyes were a bright emerald, but they were shaped like Jean-Claude’s. Sometimes, subtle things would change like his ears or his lips would be fuller or thinner depending. His skin was currently a light tan that matched Micah. 

“Excuse me Teddy, Gentlemen, but is Mr. Potter-Black here yet? Your time slot is almost here.” The man flinched when all the men’s eyes were suddenly on him. 

“Hi Mr. Ford. Parrain isn’t here yet but Papa, Dad, and Père are.” Teddy turned to see the office assistant standing behind Edward.

“Shall I ask your homeroom teacher to move your time slot down?”

“Ye-”

“I’m here!” Harry called out, running up the hall. “Did I make it in time?” One of the first things that anyone noticed about Harry was the fact that he looked very young. It always caused a start with teachers, parents, and even students. His raven-black hair was as wild and inky as it ever was, and his emerald eyes provided a startling contrast. 

“Barely, Little Raven.” Edward pulled a bottle of water from one of his pant pockets. Mr. Ford stared in awe, seeing a metal bottle come out of a side pocket that looked empty moments before. Harry grabbed the bottle and chugged the water. 

“Might need to freshen up a little, mon Amour.” Jean-Claude trailed a hand down Harry’s lightly sweating back. 

“I hate that Bert is insisting on us all using chickens.” Harry used his wand to get rid of the immediate dirt and blood from his clothing. Turning a red and brown spotted button down back to a freshly pressed purple shirt. Another flick saw his black jeans getting clean. “At least I got him to stop pressing about wearing black at work. So much easier to hide stains.” He wore knee high black leather boots with small silver clasps going up and down the sides. It gave him a good two inches of height as per usual. 

“Right, I’ll go let your homeroom teacher know you’ll be down in a minute.” Mr. Ford backed away trying to watch the magic Harry was casting. 

Edward casually stepped behind Harry and reached down his pants. “Still stuffed I see.” He commented as he drew a finger across the base of a plug stuck inside Harry, lightly pushing against it. As he pulled his hand out, he made sure to hook the string of the thong Harry was wearing and give a pull. 

“Bastard!” Harry hissed and the pulled string caused the plug base to shift more. “I don’t know why I keep wearing those.”

“I don’t see why you are always surprised.” Micah chuckled. He sent his leopard out to greet Harry. The two beasts rubbed up against each other, purring in contentment. 

“I already told Père, but no seducing my teachers, Parrain.” Teddy said, hands on hips.

“What?” Harry blinked down at the nine year old, resisting the urge to shiver at feeling Micah’s beast rub up against his. “Why would I?”

“I heard about Uncle Rafael and the client in your office.” 

“Who...? What? Eeeh!?” Harry flushed red as he tried to respond. “Who do I have to punish for this?” He looked at the three men who had a variety of smirks. 

“Not us, I assure you,” Micah chuckled. “Likely Jason or Zane. You know how loose lipped they are.” 

Harry grumbled. “You can thank your Père. It’s  _ his _ fault,” he said, folding his arms across his chest with a sulk. 

Jean-Claude chuckled richly causing the mother who passed by to turn a brilliant shade as she pushed her gawking daughter along. “I suppose.” He ran his fingertips through Teddy’s hair lovingly. 

That was when an unknown teacher wandered by, saw them, and blinked in confusion. “Uhm, excuse me, you do know only parents and guardians are allowed to be here right?” She was a tall stick figure of a woman with a tight brown bun at the base of her neck. She looked older, almost fifty or so with spider lines at the edge of her glass blue eyes. 

“And that’s exactly what we are,” said Micah grinning. 

“Huh?” 

“All of them are his fathers,” said Harry with a small smile. “I’m his godfather.” 

Her face was priceless, and the parents around who heard were only staring. “Uhm, sorry, but I must have that confused. How are you all his guardians?” 

Teddy beamed. “My mum and dad died when I was born so now I belong to Parrain, Dad, Papa, and Père! What’s so confusing about that?” He asked, tilting his head. “All of them love my Parrain and they love me! So all of them are mine.” Before the woman could question anymore, they were finally called into the class by the actual teacher. 

“Who was that?” Harry asked as the woman continued to gawk at them. 

“No idea,” Teddy admitted. “I see her around sometimes, but no idea who she is.” 

“I bet this will be fun,” Micah mused. 

“Entertaining if nothing else,” Edward said. 

Teddy’s teacher was a middle-aged woman with a rather sharp set of features that made her look intelligent and yet at the same time reminded Harry of a hawk. She had shoulder length blonde hair that was obviously dyed being as yellow and brassy as it was, and the ends were frizzed and frayed. It was currently back in a ponytail. 

She seemed confused when Harry walked in first, and behind him were his three men. Teddy beaming. “Everyone’s here, Mrs. Lambert!” he cheered proudly. 

“I- see that. Mr. Potter-Black it’s nice to see you again.” She, like the woman outside, had a look of real confusion on her face as Harry shook her hand firmly. 

“Same to you, ma’am. These are Edward, Micah, and Jean-Claude. They are also his fathers and legal guardians.” 

Teddy bobbed his head excitedly. “Yep! Edward is my Dad, Micah is my Papa, and Jean-Claude is my Père! Harry is my Parrain,” said Teddy matching Micah’s smile. 

“I thought he was kidding about that,” said Mrs. Lambert. 

“Why would I joke about something like that?” asked Teddy, and it was his turn to now have confusion. 

“It’s just… unusual,” she said carefully. “Please, have a seat.” Everyone sat around Harry, and Teddy climbed onto Jean-Claude. Mrs. Lambert stared at them owlishly. 

“We are aware of the unusual, but it does not change the fact that it is,” said Jean-Claude with a calm radiant smile. 

She floundered for several moments, as if trying to digest the truth laid out in front of her. “W-well, I see…” She moved her schedule and papers aside. “I must say, Theodore is a rather compelling student. His elevation to the next grade is cemented, his academic work is some of the top in the class. In fact, there are discussions about moving him to the middle school early.” 

Harry shook his head. “I don’t think that’s necessary because once he’s eleven he’ll be changing schools altogether. As you can probably tell, Teddy’s quite magical. So he’ll be going to a magic school to learn better control over his magic.” 

“Right, yes. He does display rather unusual magical properties, which has confused some of the teachers who are proficient and knowledgeable in magic. No one’s ever seen anyone who could change their features at will.” 

“It’s a rare trait passed down from his mother,” said Harry. 

“And his mother is-?” 

“My mum died when I was born. So did my father,” said Teddy. “I lived with gran for a few years, but she changed a lot. She’s always sad because of my mum and grandfather who also died around the same time. I was so happy to be adopted by Parrain, and I have such a big family now! It always makes me happy.” And with that, he proceeded to change his features entirely by cycling through all of his fathers and Harry. He did it in such quick succession that it had Mrs. Lambert stunned. 

“We told Teddy to choose one look a day to keep down on confusion and mischief,” said Harry. 

“My only concern is his disinterest in forming close connections with the other children. His social skills are very high. He’s popular and is well liked by the class, but he doesn’t seem to have much interest in them outside of class at all.” 

“I don’t really see that as a problem,” said Edward. 

“He tends to not play like most children his age, and often keeps them at a distance. Several children have tried to invite him to parties and sleepovers, but he refuses.” 

“I tell them all the time that I’m too busy,” said Teddy. “Some of the kids are so noisy that it hurts my ears,” he confessed. “I also don’t want to go to anyone else’s house. I like my house. I don’t want to sleep anywhere else.” 

“Is that why you declined the camping trip?” asked Mrs. Lambert. 

“I asked them to say no,” said Teddy. “Besides, if I want to go camping I’d rather go with Dad and Big Brother Peter! It’ll be much more fun that way.” 

“Teddy’s very family oriented,” said Harry. “If he doesn’t want to go somewhere or do something then we won’t force him to do it.” 

“Besides, safety is often an issue,” said Edward. 

“I assure you we take the safety of our students into serious consideration.” 

“I’m just not comfortable being around so many kids,” Teddy confessed with a shrug. “Besides, there’s always something fun going on at my house. Why do I want to go to someone else’s? I tried it once before, and I didn’t have any fun at all. Not to mention I couldn’t sleep. It was too weird, and the smells and things just weren’t right at all.” 

“I don’t see an issue. He is social enough for your school, and friendly to the other children. Why is his after school life so important?” Jean-Claude interjected with a tilt of his head. “I do not see that as the responsibility of the school.” 

“The welfare of our students is very important whether in or out, and we couldn’t help but wonder why it is that Theodore won’t accept the invitations that are always being offered to him.” 

“I don’t want to,” said Teddy trying not to get frustrated. 

“Why not?” 

“Why do I have to?” His question seemed to frustrate Mrs. Lambert. “Parrain told you I’m leaving in a couple of years, and I might not see these kids ever again. So, I’m friendly with them, but I don’t really want to do anything with kids I’m going to forget about.” 

“Makes sense to me,” said Micah. 

Harry also knew from Micah and Marcus’ guidance that Teddy’s disinterest had to do with not only their scent, but the fact that his wolf did not like others bossing him around. Teddy did not want to be submissive to strangers, and being so young he could not exert dominance over the parents or adults yet. So he had instinctively dubbed the other children as not a part of his pack. 

It was impossible to explain to a teacher, and he didn’t bother trying. 

“I think as long as he’s friendly and kind that’s all that matters,” said Harry. “Anything else that needs addressed?” he asked, moving the conversation along. 

“We’ve also noticed he’s having some issues with Mr. Doddard.” Mrs. Lambert started.

“Who?” Micah asked, confused. “That’s not one of the faculty names I recognize.”

“Mr. Doddard is a substitute teacher at the school that steps in to cover various classes as needed. We understand he can be a bit of a strict teacher, but Theodore doesn’t show any respect to him.”

“What’s he done to earn the respect?” Edward asked, placing a hand on Teddy’s head before the boy could speak. 

“He’s a teacher, all students need to show respect to their teachers. Theodore’s behavior with Mr. Doddard has seen him have an increase in detentions during recess break. As his guardians you should be speaking to him about his behavior.”

“I disagree that teachers automatically deserve respect.” Harry frowned, remembering teachers in Hogwarts who demanded respect but never gave it. “Teachers need to earn the respect of their charges just like students earn it from each other. I would never have Teddy respect someone just because they are older. He’s not to be rude, but respect is earned; no matter who you are.”

“What can be done to ensure that Mr. Doddard has less interaction with mon petit garcon?” Jean-Claude asked with a smile. 

“Excuse me?”

“Can you change who covers your classes in your absence so that Teddy doesn’t have this man teaching him?” Micah asked.

“We should really be looking at changing Theodore’s behavior in this situation. He’ll have to deal with different people in life, he just needs to learn what’s right.”

“What’s right or what’s expected? Teddy has dealt with a variety of people and personalities. Something about this Mr. Doddard needs to change if he can’t earn the respect of a nine-year-old. You mention he’s a bit strict. In which case, surely Teddy isn’t the only one who’s had issues with him in the past.” Harry wasn’t about to chastise Teddy for following his instincts, which is what this situation sounded like. “So back to Jean’s question, what can be done?”

“We can’t change who is a substitute -”

“Very well,” Jean-Claude interrupted, “I’m sure the school will be happy to provide a notice on the days you or his future teachers will be absent. We’ll have him home schooled those days instead. I’m sure someone in our vast community has the skills to cover for a few days a year.”

“We can ask Rafael and Marcus, they’ll be able to let us know quickly.” Edward offered his agreement, already pulling out his cell to send a message.

“Well… I... um…”

“Was there anything else Mrs Lambert?” Harry asked with a smile. “If not we should really be getting Teddy home so he can finish his homework. I know he has his history paper to finish that you set earlier this week.”

She seemed surprised by the change in gears, and was frowning slightly. “That does remind me. We have noticed how Theodore’s work seems to change from time to time.” 

“What do you mean by that?’ asked Micah. 

“We often like our students using their own words, and most of them have a particular way they all go about problem solving and issues. But, Theodore’s work tends to vary significantly.” 

“That’s because there’s a lot of people in the household. Mostly one of us assists him with his homework. Sometimes, the rest of his family if they’re strong in the subject will jump in,” said Harry logically. “We don’t give him directions outright. We help lead him to the right conclusion, and he can use his own words to get there.” 

“It’s just, one day his answers will be really formal and analytical, and the next time he does a report or a project it’ll be playful and more curious.” 

Harry chuckled softly. “That’s probably his Aunt Hermione’s influence.” 

“Yep, homework isn’t as fun with her. But she is so smart,” said Teddy proudly. “She’s a genius! It’s hard to keep up with a genius.” 

“You’re just as brilliant, darling,” Jean-Claude cooed. 

“Besides, aren’t there many roads taken when it comes to answering questions? They don’t always have to be the same,” said Edward, and Harry could just hear the man’s judgment without him saying it. He thought she was quite ridiculous. “Why should a child look at a problem with only one pair of eyes? That’s not how the world works. It gives him more ways to think and expand his mind. I don’t see that as an issue as more of a praise. We’ve taught him to think outside the box of what is perceived as normal reasoning.”

“I suppose you make a point. I just wanted it noted that his work is constantly varying depending on the subject involved.” 

“If each subject changes, why can’t his answers?” Micah asked. “So long as they stay in the realm of being right. I don’t see this as an issue.” 

“Also helps prevent others from cheating, oui?” Jean-Claude smiled. “I’ve heard that is an issue.” 

Teddy nodded his head. “Yeah, a couple kids are always trying to cheat off me. But I’ve gotten wise to that!” He smirked. “Dad has taught me how to spot cheaters. It’s sometimes why I let my hair grow out so that I can shield my work or I’ll answer wrong the first time, and once they’ve handed in their papers, I’ll erase and put in the right answers. It works every time,” he said slyly. 

“Is that all?” asked Edward, seeing the whole thing as a time waster in the end, and as usual Edward was always right. 

“I do have a few more concerns. The biggest issue was him telling a fellow student’s parent to mind her own business.” 

“Oh?” Jean-Claude tilted his head. 

Teddy made a face. “I told her to mind her own business because every time she comes to drop her kid off she tries to give me one of those dumb leaflet things about her church. I’ve thrown them all away, but her kid told her that I was, and she got mad about it. She told me I was being disrespectful, and then she asked what my family’s names and numbers were, and I told her it was pointless and to mind her own business.” 

“I don’t see an issue,” said Edward once more. 

“I chose this school on the grounds of religious neutrality,” said Harry. “What he believes and doesn’t believe is no one else’s business. I want to keep it that way.” 

“Of course and it is neutral. But again, don’t you think there was a better way to handle it?” 

“By pretending to accept something that he either doesn’t believe or want anything to do with?” Micah challenged. 

“If that is all?” Harry interjected easily. 

“Y-yes, I suppose that is about all the issues that need to be covered.” She gave them an end of the year review of Teddy’s grades, and what to expect for next year’s class, including information on several field trips that were being planned. 

As they stepped out, Micah chuckled. “Things haven’t changed much.” 

“What was the point of that?” asked Edward. 

“To bitch,” Micah quipped. 

“I must admit that I am constantly surprised by how involved strangers tend to be in the lives of children that aren’t even theirs,” said Jean-Claude. “But, maybe that is my age that’s showing. Hm.” Harry grinned.

“Am I in trouble?” asked Teddy softly from between Harry and Edward. 

“Why would you be?” Micah asked, tilting his head down to look at the boy. 

He rose his shoulders up in a shrug. “I don’t know. I try to be good and nice to everyone, but some things just bother me. Sorry about not being respectful enough to my teachers.” 

“That isn’t on you, kid,” said Edward.

“It doesn’t matter why. If it’s not important enough for you to mention, then you don’t have to,” said Harry. “There will always be that one person that you either don’t like or just can’t get along with no matter what you do. You shouldn’t have to go the extra mile for them if they won’t do the same for you.” 

“I’m surprised that we didn’t hear anything more of entertainment value,” Edward grunted. 

Harry grinned mischievously. “That might be because I often have Draco on it. She may or may not have had a few memories altered here and there. Just to keep eyes off us, you know?” 

“Sly. If only I could have removed my teacher’s memories, ah the things I could get away with,” Micah grinned. 

Harry nudged him. “I don’t want him to be that spoiled.” 

“I’m not spoiled! If I get in trouble, I take it. Like Mr. Doddard. I don’t like him, and I accept his detentions because I know I’m being a bit disrespectful and rude.” 

“May I ask why you do not like this particular teacher?” 

“He’s sexist,” said Teddy boldly. 

That had their attention. “Do you know what sexist means, Pup?” asked Micah curiously. 

“Yep, he stereotypes the girls and the boys, and because of this I make it a point to always have long hair when I know he’s going to be in class that day. He also says that girls aren’t allowed to do the same things as boys, and jumped on Madeline for showing up in boy’s clothes and said it wasn’t appropriate. He’s weird about that. Very strict acting and stuff. I don’t get it. I mean, she’s a bit of a tomboy, and they weren’t even her brother’s clothes. They were hers. But who cares? She’s fun to talk to.” 

“I see.” 

“He always finds a reason to give someone detention. It’s not just me. It’s like he has to give out a detention or he’s not being a teacher.” 

_ Oh the memories _ , Harry thought, thinking of Umbridge and Snape. He supposed every school had to have at least one in their midst. He’d let Teddy deal with it as he wanted. It was probably best for him to do that without them constantly interfering. “Shall we go get some ice cream?” Harry suggested. 

“Yes, please!” That was when Micah hoisted Teddy onto his back making the boy cheer as he looped his arms around Micah’s neck and his legs locking around the man’s waist. Micah slipped a hand into Harry’s as they walked. “Giddy up!”


	2. Chapter Two

A few days later saw Harry and Edward dressed up in tuxedos with bright orange shirts with thin black ties. Micah and Teddy got to wear normal formal clothes in the audience but Larry had asked Harry and Edward to both be groomsmen. This was the first time Harry would actually step foot into the church that Larry and Tammy chose for their wedding. He had found ways to avoid all other instances that required him to be there, mostly by accepting raisings from Bert for the times when things were scheduled. Most of it had to do with the church itself, and what it represented. Also, if he were being honest, he wasn’t a big fan of Tammy Reynolds, and that also went for her family who were staunchly religious. It made for bad conversation most of the time. 

As Harry moved down the aisle, sandwiched between the Best Man and Edward, he zoned out. A wedding between an animator and vampire hunter, and a police detective in the RPIT unit. Thankfully it wasn’t on Halloween like originally planned. Unfortunately for everyone involved, Tammy Reynolds insisted on keeping the black and orange Halloween theme. It was garish, and gave Harry horrible nightmares about his once best friend’s room. 

“Little Raven?” Harry blinked awake when he felt Edward bump into his back. “What’s wrong?”

“This shouldn’t be here.” Harry realized his gaze was focused on the aisle between his feet. “Why is that here?”

“There’s nothing there, Little Raven.” 

“There’s a body.” Harry whispered.

“If you stop the wedding now, Little Raven, Larry will kill you. Bring up the body after the ceremony.” Edward prodded Harry’s back. “I’m not getting back into this clown suit if it gets stopped. You’re probably feeling something from the church’s graveyard.”

“The graveyard is 300 feet to our right, this is right here.” Harry drew in a breath. “But you’re right. The wedding can’t stop because I will not come here a second time, no matter how much I like Larry.”

They made it to the front of the church and before Harry knew it, the bridesmaids were walking down the aisle. Harry couldn’t shift his gaze from the spot on the floor where he felt a body. Not even Detective Reynolds walking down the aisle in a white bell-shaped dress with a veil pulled his eyes away. It wasn’t until everyone was in their places and the officiant started speaking that Harry could force his eyes from the spot. He couldn’t help but notice the glare her father gave Larry as he transferred his daughter's hand to his over her large pregnant belly. It was as if he blamed Larry for getting his daughter pregnant, ignoring the fact she was a very willing participant in the relationship. Larry was just thankful that the hospital run two months ago ended up not being a major issue. Both mother-to-be and baby were fine. As far as Harry knew, this wasn’t a traditional shotgun wedding. Yes, they were marrying with her pregnant; but from the way Larry waxed poetry about her it was going to happen sometime anyways.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…” Harry happily zoned out again as the ceremony started. His mind kept wandering back to the body in the aisle. 

_ How did Larry not notice the death magic with as many times as he has been in and out of here? Is this church known for a famous dead priest? Is that who’s buried there? How old is this church again? I wonder if I can get further information from here? _ Harry bit his lip and pushed a small tendril of power out, trying to feel for the body. Before it could go very far, his concentration was broken by a poke in his back

_ “No.” _ A look to his side showed the thought came from Edward. With a pout, Harry faced forward and paid attention to the end of the ceremony. Larry and Tammy were leaning in to kiss over her round belly as the officiant declared them married. 

_ Marriage _ . Harry hadn’t really thought much about it, and really why would he? How would it be possible for Harry to ever marry? In the eyes of the law and almost every single country, marriage was between two people and two people only. Not three or more, and so he’d never entertained the idea of actually getting married. If he couldn’t marry Jean-Claude, Edward, and Micah all together, there was no point.

It was one of those things that went unspoken. Just, something that would and could not ever happen. But, maybe a tiny part of Harry wished it could. Somehow. Of course, he kept his thoughts very tightly concealed. No one ever needs to know these wayward thoughts of his as he turned with the rest of the entourage. He ended up beside Jessica Arnet, who didn’t look too bad in her orange bridesmaid dress. She was flashing him strange looks from time to time. He couldn’t help but wonder why.

Still horrible, but it could have been worse. 

He looked down, and shivered slightly when he walked right over the body beneath the floorboards of the church.  _ How did it get there? _

It was a flood of orange during the reception, which took place across the church yard inside the recreation building. Teddy and Micah had joined them, the bride and groom were happily hugging and shaking hands at the door as the rest of the entourage went to get their seats. 

“You seem distracted,” Micah leaned around.  _ He was going to be more distracted if Micah kept looking this good _ , Harry thought dryly. He was wearing a lovely black tailored suit that emphasized the structure of his shoulders and slender waist and hips. Proving to all who looked beyond his pretty delicate face that he was most definitely all man. He’d left his deep green shirt open at the neck so that it framed the hollow in his throat. He also wore sunglasses that were perfectly matched. His hair was out of its usual tie resting on his shoulders in a wave of chocolate curls. 

“He’s discovered a body in the church,” Edward murmured quietly. 

Micah’s brow rose. “Oh?” 

Harry shrugged. “Sorry, ever since Philly my powers have become more sensitive,” he admitted opening his hands. “I can feel the slightest trembles of death all around me. I’ve learned to block out the animals and ambient things, but when it’s human it tends to buzz at my head like a horse fly or something.” 

“You’ve never felt this in the daylight have you?” 

“No,” said Harry. “Death magic is at its weakest in the daylight as there’s simply too much for it to fight with. I do probably need to discreetly let someone know about it. It’s probably not preternatural or anything. Maybe it’s supposed to be there, like a priest or something?” 

“This isn’t Catholic,” Micah offered. 

“Maybe it’s someone important. I’ll try to put a lid on it,” said Harry as he sat between his two men. 

Teddy was playing with Zerbrowski’s children, and there was a lot of laughter as the bride and groom came in. Everyone stood to cheer and clap as the two held hands, both were blushing a bright enough color to match Larry’s shocking red hair. 

At least they were happy. 

Harry couldn’t help but once again space out through the speeches and teases of the Maid of Honor and the Best Man. He angled toward Edward, and resisted shivering when fingers caressed at the nape of his neck where the hidden tattoo of a flaming scythe sat. He leaned closer, enjoying the feel of his touch. 

It seemed that in the last few months Edward had become a lot more responsive to physical touch outside of the typical rough sex or sleep. It seemed easier and more natural for him. Little touches here and there to not only Harry but Micah too. Harry hasn’t seen him do anything with Jean-Claude yet, but that may be coming soon. His ice blue eyes never really changed, they were still cold and empty, they still held an intelligence that simply told anyone who dared to look at him that he knew things. He knew things that you did not want to know. 

His short blond hair was slowly growing out on the top while remaining short on the sides, and Harry could see the edges of it curling. He would probably be wanting a trim soon, though Harry did admit that he liked the curls. 

He looked good in the suit, the orange didn’t seem to take anything away from him like it did the rest of them. Or maybe that was just Harry’s opinion. He was the most average of anyone, but he was striking in the way that he held and carried himself. He looked so normal that he was anything but, and the callous’ on his fingertips told a lot of stories that even Harry didn’t know. 

Most of the off duty St. Louis police department had showed up. Including most of RPIT with the exception of Dolph. He had declined the invitation when he asked if there would be any ‘monsters’ at the wedding and Larry unhesitantly said yes. 

Dolph had only just returned from his forced leave of absence without pay. Any more mess-ups would find the man forced to take early retirement or risk blowing his entire career. Harry wasn’t entirely sure of the details, but there was pressure from the top brass for Dolph to put a lid on it. He was on duty that night so that everyone else could enjoy themselves. It sounded so wholesome and kind, but Harry wasn’t fooled. He wasn’t here because of Harry. 

Edward had been confused when Larry had approached him about being a groomsman, the man had thought he was out of his mind. Harry reminded him that it was some of his teachings that allowed him to actually be alive to get married. Edward thought he was an idiot. A well meaning and naive idiot, but an idiot nonetheless. 

There were drinks and dancing, and a lot of cake and food being passed around. A lot of mingling and laughing, and many people coming up to the long table to congratulate the happy couple. 

Harry watched the dancers from his position between his two men, his mind wandering from the body in the church to the idea of weddings and marriage in general. It seemed that these days, he couldn’t keep his mind straight. He was always running in tangants, and so he didn’t notice the silent conversation passing between Edward and Micah. 

He was surprised when Edward curved a hand down the silk orange sleeve to his hand. “Come on, Little Raven. Let me distract you.” 

“You’re going to dance with me?” Harry looked at him in surprise. 

“I am a man of a few talents.” Edward smirked, and Micah was already on his feet. Come to find out, he was going to dance with Teddy, which was the cutest thing in the world as Edward took him to the dance floor with everyone else. 

“I don’t know how to dance.” 

“Just follow me, Little Raven. Like you always do.” And it seemed that so suddenly and so easily, the dance floor and all of the reception disappeared because he was looking straight up into ice blue eyes. Edward’s hand on his hip, he was chest to chest with the man, and they were moving before Harry could notice. 

He smelled nice. A clean sort of scent that wasn’t quite cologne or aftershave, but it was Edward. A mix of gunpowder and metal, and the way he felt through the suit jacket. It was like he could feel every part of him. It had to be the connection, they weren’t that close, considering it was public, but Harry could feel it.

His beasts began to stir, and Edward smirked as though he could feel it. “Now, now be good.” 

“I didn’t say anything,” Harry pouted. 

“You didn’t have to.” And he almost yelped when Micah was suddenly right there at his back, chest right up against him, and arms looping around them both. 

“Can I join?” 

“Where’s Teddy-?” 

“I’m afraid my partner was taken away.” Harry looked over and laughed out loud when he saw Merlioni dancing with Teddy who was standing on his feet and beaming. 

Merlin, that was the cutest sight. “Where the hell’s my camera?” 

“I’m sure the photographer got a few snapshots you can get from Larry later,” Micah purred into his ear. Being sequestered between his two men, it was nothing new. But, being between them in public sure was, and right in front of the police department. As if he needed more rumors, but who cared?

How he was able to move so fluidly with two others, he would have no clue, but they did, and he was aware of Micah’s heat, Edward’s smooth skills, and the room was spinning. All thoughts of a body in a church were suddenly lost on him. 

“He’s going to combust if we keep this up,” Micah hissed, pressing Harry closer into Edward. 

“Indeed, he must be good for now.” 

Harry let out a quiet noise, his cheeks were warm, and it was perfect timing. Zerbrowski and Katie came over. “Can I cut in?” 

“I’ll take her with me,” said Micah smiling confidently as he held his hand to Katie. 

Katie laughed. “Sorry, there’s no one for you, Ted.” 

“I prefer watching,” said Edward smirking as he handed Harry off right into Zerbrowski’s arms. 

Katie laughed some more as though it was a joke, and Harry was danced away by a smirking Zerbrowski. “Why do I think he’s not kidding?” Zerbrowski mused. 

Harry snickered. “He’s not. Ed-Ted rarely kids.” 

“You can call him, Edward, Harry. I’m a detective.” 

“No, you? Of all people,  _ Igor _ ?” he lowered his voice to say his given name causing Zerbrowski’s ears to turn red. 

“Not in public.” 

“My men have never said that before,” said Harry, making Zerbrowski’s grin widen. 

“I bet they haven’t with how close they were getting. So I just had to cut in.” 

“I can’t dance.” 

“Says the one dancing with two men.” 

“Three now if you’re included.” 

“True. I’m sure Katie won’t mind sharing for a bit.” 

Harry couldn’t stop laughing. “Yeah, I think that would cause the department to have a small heart attack. No need to sleep with the boss, now that would get awkward.” 

“Who said anything about sleeping?” And Harry grumbled as the man twirled him like he was a woman. 

“Sorry, I don’t have a dress that twirls with me.”

“Not your fetish?” 

“Hardly!” Harry squeaked. “I’ve made a lot of concessions with my clothing, but dresses are where I definitely draw the line.” 

“I knew it! Someone was dressing you all this time.” 

“Shut it,” Harry grumbled. “And the next bet you make with RPIT, I better get in on it.” 

“Yes, yes. What’s the total up to now?” 

“Same as ever.” 

“Hm, really? Looks like I lost that one.” Harry punched him in the shoulder, Zerbrowski laughed and tightened his hold on Harry’s waist. “Just joking.” 

“There’s something I’m not joking about,” said Harry going back to the thought of the church and the body. “There’s a body in the church.” 

Zerbrowski almost stumbled at this. “What-?” 

“I felt it when we were walking down the aisle. It’s old, at least twenty years or more. Runs straight down the middle of the aisle; like someone decided to take a nap in the aisle of the church.” 

“You felt a body? How is that possible?” 

“My powers are getting stronger,” he figured he could trust Zerbrowski with that. “It must be old because Larry couldn’t feel it, none of the other animators could either. But I noticed it. I didn’t want to draw attention, but it’s there. I swear it is.” 

“Shit.”

“Lately I’ve been having issues with my powers,” he confessed to Zerbrowski. “I’ve raised entire graveyards without meaning to, and I can feel the ambient deaths around me. From small animals to sometimes ones that are coming if I’m in a crowd.” 

Zerbrowski’s eyes widened. “Is that normal?” 

“I don’t think anything about me is normal, Zeze. I’m kind of a freak.” 

“Now, I wouldn’t say that. Interesting, yes. But a freak, hardly. You want to check it out?” 

“Can we get away with it? I don’t want to ruin Larry’s night. If we leave right now there are going to be rumors.” 

Zerbrowski smirked. “Let them talk. Come on,” he twirled Harry once more, and led him toward the double doors. 

Harry made eye contact with Edward who gave him a nod. He had Teddy with him, and was making his way over to the laughing Katie and smiling Micah. 

“Are you sure you’re not feeling the graveyard?” Zerbrowski asked once they were outside. It was just now falling dark, the clouds were rolling gray across the skies. 

“Positive. I can feel them just fine,” said Harry. “They seem like they are in appropriate places from what I can tell.” 

They scaled the small stone steps to the church that was still unlocked, and Harry admitted that now that it was empty it was kind of creepy. The feeling got stronger making the tiny white hairs on the back of his neck stick up on end. 

He walked to the center of the aisle, and the sensation got stronger. Something was unhappy below here. It didn’t belong. He was sure of it, and he shivered as something cold moved up his leg as if he walked on an unmarked grave. 

“Cold spot,” Harry explained. 

Zerbrowski came over, the aisle had a red carpet as across the floorboards. “I really shouldn’t rip this up on a hunch. Is there a basement to this place?” 

“I don’t know. I made it a point to never come to the church. I managed to keep busy right up until today.” 

Zerbrowski chuckled. “Why? I thought you didn’t mind religion?” 

“I don’t, but - it’s just cast-offs from when I was a kid. You know, relatives’ threats of lightning and all that.” Harry tapped his foot on the spot, and Zerbrowski clicked his own heel a few paces away. Both sounded different. Harry’s side sounded more hollow. 

Harry got on his knees, and took out a knife. 

“We can’t do that without-” 

“I’ll put it back,” Harry promised. “No one will ever know if it’s a fluke.” 

“And if it’s not?” 

“Charge me.” 

Zerbrowski didn’t stop him from slicing the red rug, and he pulled it back. “Huh… the boards are set differently. Well, in for a penny in for a pound.” And Harry stuck his knife into the floorboard, and it was way too easy to lift. It was more glue than it was nailed, and before Zerbrowski could say anything more both of them jerked back. A woman was laid out wearing what was obviously a wedding dress that had turned a faded gray with mother of pearl beads sewn into it. She was slightly mummified, but otherwise in good condition for it’s age. She had brown hair at one time that was just now turning white at the ends. 

“That’s definitely a body,” Zerbrowski agreed. “Thankfully, this isn’t our department. We can call it in and go home.” 

“Don’t be too sure about that,” said Harry. “Look there.” 

Zerbrowski leaned around Harry’s kneeling figure to see a book hidden beneath her. It was old and looked handmade. It said ‘Shadows’ on it. “A witch?” 

“Outside witch, yes. Not my kind. So this would fall under our jurisdiction, and you know how churches used to feel about magic.” 

“Yes, yes I do,” Zerbrowski said solemnly. “Suggested age?” 

Harry made a noise. “It’s preserved well, but… I’m going to say at least twenty. Maybe older.” 

Zerbrowski sighed and stood. “I’m going to call it in. You want to break up the wedding or should I?” 

“Let’s send Larry and Reynolds on their way and pull the others in here. I’ll tell Larry to wrap up and go and have Micah take Teddy home. Katie can grab a ride with them.”

“You go do that and I’ll phone the office and ping Clive and Merlioni to come here. Grab Edward on your way back.” Zebrowski sighed pulling out his phone. Harry quickly stood and walked back to the reception. 

“Baby?” Micah grabbed Harry as he entered the door. 

“Grab Katie and Teddy and go home once Edward pulls things from the car.” 

“I’ll be casual. So there was something.”

“Yes, an outside witch. Zeze is calling it in now. Go before sirens start and you’re trapped here.” Harry pulled him into a kiss. “Don’t know when we’ll be home.”

Harry next found Edward seated at their table. Without the need for words the man was up and moving to an exit. Harry knew he’d grab kits from the car as he weaved his way through people to where Larry and Tammy were laughing with his brothers.

“Larry…”

“Harry, thank you again!” Larry pulled Harry into a slightly wobbly hug. Before the man could pull back, Harry grabbed him tight.

“You need to get Tammy out of here now, silently. The church is about to be swarmed with RPIT for a scene. If you don’t want this day ruined, take her for a walk or something and leave. Be casual and calm about it.” Harry quickly whispered to the man. He could feel Larry sobering up as he spoke. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t think, just go.” Harry pulled back with a giant fake smile. “How could I not support you on your day!” With a nod, Larry turned to Tammy and loudly declared they should take a stroll outside as he wanted to see her beautiful dress in the moonlight. 

Larry’s brothers joked and teased about what a stroll entailed, but Harry didn’t care. As long as Larry was gone and had a happy memory of his wedding it was the best he could do. Before he could be pulled into a conversation with either family, Harry made his way back across the room. A glance around showed that Micah, Teddy, Katie and the kids, Edward, and those on Zerbrowski’s team were gone. 

Harry made it back to the church in time to hear sirens sound in the distance. The families weren’t going to be happy to have their reception crashed. Inside the church, Merlioni and Edward were working on pulling up the other floor boards to reach all of the buried woman. Clive was making sure to snap pictures with his phone every step of the way. None of them had an actual camera so the phone camera would have to do for initial evidence. Once Harry entered the room, Zerbrowski stepped out to find the officiant or someone else from the church for questioning. 

“You can’t just raise her to find out can you, kiddo?” asked Merlioni in jest. 

“No, the last time I raised someone who no one told me had been murdered, they made a beeline for their killer and broke my circle,” Harry explained. “Not going to risk it here.” It was true that in the end, Harry could have kept him in. But he damn well tried. “Once free of the circle they won’t stop until their murderer is dead, and they can take out innocents.” 

“Yikes, I gotcha. It’s why we still have jobs, I guess,” Merlioni grinned. 

“Clive, can you get a picture of her Book of Shadows?” Harry asked. “I want to take a look at it.” 

“I wish I had a better camera.” 

“I don’t think the wedding photographer agreed to take these kind of pictures in his contract,” Zerbrowski said. “Once the ME arrives we can better date on the body, and start poking and prodding. Until then we have to wait.” Harry was relieved when no one seemed to really ask how anyone knew the body was there. At least not yet. He didn’t want to reveal to anyone else that his powers were getting stronger. Why was it only Harry could feel it when none of the other animators could? John Burke might have been able to feel it, but he was in New Orleans, and had missed the wedding. How would Harry explain? Every time he tried, he got the strangest looks like he was an alien. 

A couple of the Reynold’s relatives tried to get into the church, but one of the officers that had been invited to the wedding insisted on them going back to the reception, and it wasn’t long before the lot was filled with law enforcement, including the ME. Harry wasn’t usually first on call, he was normally the last. He and Edward stood off to the side as the ME came in to examine the body. Zerbrowski had called into Dolph that they were taking the case instead of handing it over since it had potential magical ties. 

“No obvious sign as to how she died,” said the ME. “I’d have to get her back to the table to determine that, but honestly. Looks to me like she fell asleep. No blood or stains, body could have been moved, but she’s wearing a white dress or what was once white. It would be obvious.” 

“Age?” 

She snorted. “I’m good, Zerbrowski, but I’m not that good. She’s perfectly preserved. She’s been in an airtight space with low moisture for a long time. I’d say at least twenty years.” 

“You think we can get her out of there without contaminating the scene?” asked Edward. 

“I don’t see why not. I don’t think how she got there is the issue,” said the ME. “Anyone with gloves that can help? I can tell by just looking that the wedding dress is heavy. It’s old, and the pearls are very much real. She had money or someone had money for a dress like this.” 

Edward knelt down, gloves on, and with the help of the ME they carefully pried her out. It smelled old, not rot or any of that. Just old and musty, like a basement. 

Clive continued to take snapshots. 

Harry stepped around, and pointed. “Can I?” 

“Knock yourself out,” said Zerbrowski as Harry lifted the Book of Shadows, Clive taking a picture as it made a crack sound. 

He placed it carefully down. Not a spider or bug between the pages, in fact, it looked almost perfect, and when he opened it. “Huh…” 

“What is it?” Edward came over and knelt down beside him. 

“Grace Ursula Black,” said Harry looking at Edward. He flipped a couple of pages and noted some familiar spells and incantations along with Potion recipes. 

“Like your last name?” Merlioni picked up on. 

“I would have said she might have been a squib cast-off, but I’m thinking she wasn’t a cast-off at all. Look at these spells.” 

“She has the same magic as you,” said Edward, recognizing a lot of them by simple sight. 

“Least we have a name,” said Zerbrowski, already calling it in. 

“She’s not really a relative of mine. Just from the family I inherited the property from,” said Harry dryly. “Says she was born in 1960 around the same time as my parents, and would have been the same time as Sirius, my godfather. Who I got the property from.” 

“What’s the last thing she wrote in that thing?” asked Zerbrowski. 

Harry flipped to the end. “Doesn’t have any dates, and it’s not really a diary or journal. Just spells like the ones I use. An outside witch could never use these spells. Seems she was a light to neutral aligned witch, which is unusual for the Black family. All of them can boast a good amount of dark magic in their alignment and system. But, if she came from squibs - which means born to magical parents with not a drop of magic in their system, it might have wiped it clean.” 

“Someone could have killed her for it. Are they especially powerful?” 

“Everyone knows these spells, at least everyone that’s magical like me,” said Harry. “But, I do notice that her magic education seems to stop around fifteen.” 

“Why do you say that?” asked Zerbrowski. 

“Last set of spells come from a Standard Book of Spells Grade 5. It doesn’t go further than that, and there are no defensive spells except for a Stunning Spell and Disarming. I almost think she was home-schooled. I wonder if Ilvermorny ever invited her to their school? I could make some calls. I believe there are two others, including Salem Witch Institute. All girls' school.” 

“It’d be nice to know how old she was when she died.” 

Harry should really call in the MACUSA authorities, but he couldn’t be certain that she even had magic. Maybe it was wishful thinking? Or maybe she had magic, but it was weak? Too weak for schooling? It happened sometimes where they don’t show up on the radar. But, why was she buried with it? It seemed like a shame to Harry. Did she try to marry a Muggle and it went south? Did he kill her when he found out she was magical? Did he put her in here and hide the evidence?

He continued to flick through the pages. But nothing at all stood out. 

“Little Raven, go back to the front of the book,” said Edward, and Harry did, flicking back to the front, and the man pointed to scribbles beneath her name. 

He could make out an E and an R; the rest of it was scratched out. It looked like it had been done in pen while the rest of the book was written with ink and quill. “I know the book was written with ink and quill, but the crossout is in a non-magical pen. I wonder if I can separate that to get a name. Why does it look familiar?” 

“There’s an easier way to do that,” said Edward, taking the book and turning the page over to point at the indent from the back. He was right, quills made sharp indents in parchment and paper. 

“Evan Rosier!?” Harry yelped. 

“Do you know who that is?” 

“Sort of, not really. I know the name,” said Harry uneasily. “MACUSA needs to be called in. We’re entering my world now.”

“Why do you say that?” asked Zerbrowski. 

“Rosier was…” How did Harry put it? He looked at Edward thoughtfully. “Rosier was the equivalent of a Nazi. But, he’s dead. Auror Alastor Moody saw to him.” 

“Can we at least speak to this Auror?” asked Zerbrowski. 

“No. He’s dead.” 

“A lot of dead people,” said Merlioni. 

“Yep. It’s why I said that Rosier and his kind are the equivelent of Nazi. It sounds extreme, but I assure you it might not be extreme enough. He was a terrorist of my kind of epic proportions. As far as I know, he took a chunk out of Moody. He was the best Auror in the day. A legend really. He was well known for always trying to bring in the bad guys alive. Even at the cost of limbs. Most paranoid bugger I ever met.” 

“When did he die?” asked Zerbrowski. 

“Protecting me on the night I turned seventeen,” said Harry solemnly. He stood up, and took out his phone. 

“Why would he need to protect you?” asked Clive. 

“There was a war in my world. A nasty one. A lot of people fled that war. It spanned decades. Anyway, the magical version of Hitler was coming after us. Moody got in his way.” It seemed almost cliche using the term Hitler, but how else could he explain it? This was hitting way too close to home, and he was trying not to panic. 

He kept misdialing the number, and eventually Edward took the phone from him to make the call. 

“ _ Yes, this is Federal Marshall Ted Forrester calling on behalf of Federal Marshall Harry Potter-Black. It seems we have located a body that fits into your realm of expertise, and may or may not be linked to the war from Great Britain… _ ” Harry couldn’t hear what was being said back. “ _ Yes, the address is…” _ Edward rattled it off.  _ “Her name was Grace Ursula Black. Yes, sir. Of course sir, thank you.” _ He soon hung up. “On their way.” 

“Why couldn’t we handle it?” asked Clive. 

“Your system wouldn’t have the names of those potentially involved,” said Harry. “It’s only been a short time since magicals came out in the open, and even then Purebloods are not known for giving over their information so easily to non-magicals,” he told them delicately. “There is a good chance she is a witch from my world who ran away. Maybe she was being forced into marriage.” 

“Forced? Do they really do that these days?” Zerbrowski asked. 

“You’d be surprised. Draco’s parents were contracted for marriage when they were really young,” he explained. “I once told you that my world is a bit old fashioned, Lords and Ladies and all that rubbish. Contracts are on the table too. It’s not as popular as it used to be, but you can bet during the height of that man’s power it sure was, and the Black’s were if nothing else staunchly Pureblood.” 

“You say that like it's a bad thing,” Zerbrowski pointed out. 

“It is what it is,” said Harry carefully. He stepped back and sat in a pew. He took the book from Edward’s hand, and continued to rifle through it. 

“I wonder if this is why you felt it so strongly. Your magical connection,” Edward murmured lowly. 

“Maybe,” said Harry. “Almost wished I’d ignored it. I’m not ready for this.” 

At the sound of three gunshots going off, everyone in the room spun to the front of the church, guns raised. “Marshalls Forester and Potter-Black?” Two males and a female all in blue MACUSA robes, arms in the air holding their badges, were there.

“Here.” Harry stood, pulling his own MACUSA badge out as the three moved closer. The non-magical officers all lowered their weapons. 

“It’s an honor to meet you, sir!” The younger man rushed forward, eyes flashing to Harry’s forehead latching on the lightning bolt scar. “Order of Merlins from Britain, MACUSA and the IWC, Lord of two Ancient and Powerful houses, and now MACUSA Marshall.”  _ Merlin, _ Harry hated running into wizards like him. He could feel the stares of the members of RPIT, and almost feel Zerbrowski’s amusement. 

“Auror Trainee Nickleridge, you will act accordingly or be sent back for relocation with your training.”

“Sorry sir.”

“Apologies, Marshall Potter-Black. Auror Trainees Nickleridge and Quilim are assigned to our unit for their field training.”

“Don’t worry about it Auror. Let’s just focus on the body.”

“I’m Auror Glotston. Marshall Forrester mentioned you found something along our lines?” Glotston shook both Harry’s and Edward’s hands as he introduced himself. 

“We were all here for a wedding of some of our co-workers when we discovered the body. Grace Black according to the book of spells found with her. Evan Rosier’s name was also listed in the book.” Glotston had been diligently writing in a notebook but looked up in shock.

“Did you just say Evan Rosier?”

“Yes.”

“As in the Death Eater?”

“Unless someone happened to unfortunately share his name.”

“Nickleridge, Quilim start gathering statements from these officers and staff.” Glotston directed.

“Sir, do we follow protocols 436 or 197?” Quilim asked. 

“436, it trumps over 197.”

“Protocols?” Edward asked with a relaxed Ted smile.

“197 sees non-magicals questioned then obliviated and sent on their way. 436 came into play when magicals started to align and work with non-magicals; especially when it came to our non-magical counterparts. Sometimes 197 is still used for non-magicals that are not prepared to deal with what they’ve been questioned about.” Glotston replied.

“Well good thing we’re the Regional Preternatural Investigative Taskforce.” Zerbrowski stated as he drew even to Edward. “Detective Zerbrowski, I was here with Harry when the body was discovered and am currently lead on it from our side.”

“Detective.” Glotston shook Zerbrowski’s hand. “As this is a crime related to a magical we’ll start the paperwork necessary to take lead. What has been done so far?”

“We’re not a hundred percent positive she was magical or just with the book. Could be squib. However, with Rosier’s name it had to be called in.” Harry interrupted. 

“Harry mentioned something feeling off during the wedding. He and I came back to investigate and found her. Harry gathered the team that was here for the wedding and I called it in to our office. Marshall Forrester and Detective Merlioni worked the rest of the boards up, while Detective Perry took photos on his phone during the whole process. Once our examiner arrived we got an estimated length of death, 20 years or longer, and we removed her from the floor. The body should still be outside in the ambulance.” Zerbrowski casually explained. 

“Ambulance?” Nickleridge had wandered back over. “What’s that?”

“Failed in your Muggle Classes huh?” Edward asked.

“We call them no-maj and I never took it. Are you a wizard?”

“Nope, just have read some of Little Raven’s books.” Edward pointed to Harry. “An ambulance is the vehicle we use to transfer injured and dead to hospitals. It’s the large white truck outside with the flashing lights.” Harry was always amazed at how accommodating  _ Ted _ could be.

“Nickleridge, go get the examiner’s statement and fill out these forms while you’re at it.” Glotston summoned reams of parchment before passing two to the trainee. “Marshall Potter-Black and Detective Zerbrowski, please fill in these to verify that MACUSA is taking over this investigation. They are standard forms and copies will be sent along with you. At the end you can see, as a part of our investigation we will share the results with you as the team who found the scene and called it in.” 

Edward read over Harry’s shoulder. “Looks fairly standard.” With a wave of his hand, Harry’s parchment started filling itself in. Zerbrowski had moved to a pew and was filling it in with his pocket pen. Harry made sure to sign his with both his normal signature as well as a magical one. “Do I not need to fill one in?”

“No Marshall Forrester, Marshall Potter-Black is higher in your chain of command and thus is signing it as a Federal Marshall. Detective Zerbrowski is filling in one as lead on the scene.” 

It didn’t take much longer before officers were being dismissed. Nickelridge was sent back to the MACUSA office with copies of the paperwork, copies were left with both Zebrowski and Harry. Glotston and Quilim walked the scene casting magic to record what happened in the building tonight as well taking magical samples and photos of the spot in the aisle. RPIT and Edward watched in awe as a few spells were cast to return the church aisle to an undisturbed scene. 

“We’ll be in touch.” With another round of handshakes, Glotston and Quilim apparated out. 

“Efficient.” Zerbrowski hummed. “I should be annoyed, but I’m not.” 

“If Rosier’s name hadn’t been mentioned, I wouldn’t have bothered. This part is efficient, sure.” Harry agreed. “I imagine that lots of floo calls are being made right now to IWC and the British Ministry. Glad I’m not an Auror right now.” He shuddered at the very idea. All that red tape and posturing? If Rosier’s name hadn’t been mentioned, he wouldn’t have bothered, but there was no way for Zerbrowski or RPIT squad to have any resources about him. Hell, Harry only knew what had been said over the years. 

“If we leave now we can get home in time to see Teddy to bed.” Edward pointed out looking at the time on his phone.

“Bed for all of us sounds good to me.” Zerbrowski agreed. “Alright everyone, home or back to work!”


	3. Chapter Three

“You’re rather quiet, Little Raven. I should be annoyed with you being higher on the chain of command.” 

Harry had curled up against Edward on the drive home, and buried into him. “It’s not that I’m higher. It’s that I’m Harry Potter, they see the scar, Edward. Not me,” he muttered. “I don’t like this being too close to home. St. Louis is supposed to be my barrier, and I do not want to have to answer to the British Ministry. I don’t want them to know I’m here.” 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the higher ups already know, Little Raven.” 

Harry made a face. “Ignorance is bliss sometimes.” All of a sudden, he didn’t want to go home. He just wanted to keep driving. “I didn’t know Rosier personally. I would have been born around the time he was killed. But, he was pretty up there in the tier of Death Eaters. Alastor Moody would have been the magical equivalent of you.” 

“Oh really? And he’s dead?” 

“He lived a long time, and was sharp into his seventies. He lived through the worst of it, multiple wars, including Grindelwald, which the MACUSA will have known very well. That’s why they take my word without hesitation, they don’t want a repeat. I still remember that night, they all came flying in on various modes of transport. Half of them changed into me using that Polyjuice that we mentioned to cause a diversion. All the Death Eaters including Voldemort thought I would be with Alastor Moody, they called him Mad Eye because he had one eye, he was mad, but he was brilliant.” 

“You weren’t with the strongest were you?” 

“No, I was actually with the magically weakest, Hagrid.” 

“Good plan.” 

“Until I exposed us. My magic education in defense was deplorable. I had a lot of luck on my side. I was a one trick pony with my disarming. They recognized it,” he said glumly. “Just annoying. I get drawn back in no matter how hard I try. You should have told me to ignore it.” 

“That’s not you, Little Raven. Besides, it broke up the monotony.” 

“I liked you dancing.” 

“That was a one time thing,” Edward said, and Harry grinned as he nuzzled the man against his neck. He reached up and tugged off that God-awful tie, and spelled it away in a flash as he kissed and nipped the man’s neck. He became intoxicated by his scent, and Edward gripped him tight with one hand wrapped around him. “Looks like we need to get you home.” 

“You could run away with me.” 

“And leave our boys behind?” 

“Grab them too,” said Harry, running a hand down Edward’s chest. “Just keep going. We can kill things on the way.” 

“On the way to where?” 

“No idea. Don’t care.” 

Edward snorted. “You sound like me when I was younger.” He stopped at a red light at an empty intersection, and he tilted Harry by the hair and kissed him. Harry hummed and drank Edward hungrily. He wanted to protest when the light flared green, and he drew back to snuggle against him. “You shouldn’t be allowed to sound like me, Little Raven.” 

“Why not? Nothing bad about that.” 

“You still don’t know everything.” 

“I know what you want me to know, Edward, and that’s all I need to know.” 

Edward’s cold eyes softened in a rare natural way. “Why? You are rather curious.” 

“It’s you. You tell me what you want, when you want, or not at all. I accept that just fine.” 

“You are a strange one.” 

Harry laughed. “Look who's talking. You can make lava freeze with that dead stare.” 

“If I can make lava freeze what does that make you?” 

“No idea.” 

“You haven’t fed tonight. It almost reared up when we were dancing.” 

“More like you draw out the monster in me,” Harry grinned. 

“Do I? Interesting you say that.” 

“Still think Larry has bad taste,” Harry confessed, and Edward chuckled. 

“Is it the outside witch thing?”

“Eh, I’ve noticed my magic doesn’t appreciate them,” he confessed. “When we first met, she tried to push her aura into my own. I didn’t like it. It felt like an invasion against my will. It didn’t hurt or anything. Just, wrong. Like she was wrong. It was really the first time I got a taste of outside magic. I didn’t like it. It’s no wonder they have the three-fold rule. It’s like your skills versus an amateur.” 

“What are my skills?” 

Harry grinned. “Legendary?” 

“I’ll buy that. Are you saying you’re legendary?” 

“Compared to outside witches? Yeah, I do. I’m conceited enough.” 

After his time in Philadelphia, Harry had realized that he hadn’t been giving his men enough individual attention, and so he had gone out of his way to always spend time with each of them. He loved spending time with them when they were all alone. Some things could be said that simply couldn’t in a group due to easy distractions, but they all came together as one by the end of the night. Jean-Claude, Edward, and Micah. Marcus would come and go from time to time, the man was still a workaholic and currently in Florida at a medical convention for the week. He trusted Harry to keep the pack in order, plus the Lycanthrope Coalition. 

“You are many things, Little Raven, conceit simply does not work with you.” 

“True, that goes to Draco more or less.” 

It all seemed to happen at once, no sooner had Edward and Harry gotten through the door then their phones started ringing, and not only that but Micah was on the phone in the Entrance Hall, his suit half dismantled. 

Harry and Edward pulled out their phones. For Harry it was Dolph, and he had no idea who was calling for Edward as they both separated to give each other space. 

Edward and Micah did not approve of him working with Dolph after what had happened last Christmas. His son was about to marry a vampire, and that same vampire was trying to persuade Dolph’s son to join her in eternal life. To say that Dolph was not taking it well was an understatement to the point that he had violently manhandled Harry. Something that a lot of people took note of, and that flawless reputation he’d once had began to crack down the middle. 

It certainly didn’t help that Harry had not only been sick at the time, but also looking at Harry and his smaller size caused a lot of accusations to be thrown at Dolph who was only a few inches shy of seven foot. Harry was five foot five and not a day older than seventeen in terms of looks. He wasn’t kidding, Merlin, Harry wished it was a joke. He was going on twenty-seven, and it made his work with RPIT and being a Federal Marshall immensely irritating. 

Harry and Jean-Claude had gone out on a limb, and arranged a dinner with Dolph, his wife Lucile, their son Darrin, and future daughter-in-law. Both of them had persuaded Darrin to put off the decision. Jean-Claude being a very good voice of reason, considering he was over 600 and the Master of the City. Jean-Claude had told Darrin that becoming a vampire was something that he could never take back, and had even gone so far as to call the fiancee selfish for risking Darrin’s mortal life. There was way more to being a vampire than looking forever young. He didn’t go into full detail but he reminded her about the work that went into training new vampires after the change and highlighted the fact that Darrin wouldn’t be allowed around his family for months or even years. Harry wasn’t entirely sure what else was said as Jean-Claude had taken the woman aside, but it was enough to make her apologize for the stress. Darrin also apologised for not asking more questions about the process. 

Lucile had been overjoyed when she learned that it was possible for kids to still be an option but Jean-Claude and Harry were quick to point out and emphasize how rare it was. Overall she seemed to like Jean-Claude more than Harry expected. Dolph of course was much more suspicious with his pulse sky-rocketing every few seconds. But, it had done the trick. The wedding was still on, but Darrin agreed that becoming a vampire for the sake of a lover might not be the smartest decision. He wasn’t going to turn right away, but if everything went well for them Harry wouldn’t be surprised if he did turn in the future. At least the end result saw Harry and Dolph on minimal speaking terms again. Dolph could deal with it enough that he was calling Harry on cases again. 

His voice was brisk, almost normal. “Harry?” 

“Yes?” 

“Got a body for you to look at, the ceremony is over, right? I didn’t want to call in the middle of it. Zerbrowski also let me know of the find in the church.” 

“It’s over, I just walked in the door,” said Harry, and he could hear Edward and Micah speaking as normally as they could so that they didn’t confuse one another. “Yeah, it was a MACUSA find, we handed it over. Nothing we can do.” 

“Why can’t we handle it?” 

“Because most of the wizards of old wouldn’t be in your system at all, and it was a missing persons of at least twenty years. So where am I going?” 

Micah was already handing him the notepad and pen that always sat beside cordless in the entrance hall, and he wrote the directions down. “You won’t be able to miss it, it’ll be the only club with its own police escort.” 

Micah was talking on the phone about a medical emergency from one of the weres, and Edward from what Harry could hear was having a conversation with the New Orleans Preternatural Taskforce. 

“Okay, I’ll be there.” Dolph hung up without saying good-bye, no surprise. Even before Dolph lost it, he’d never been the good-bye type. 

“You first,” said Harry when Micah had already hung up. 

“That was Narcissus. Just across the state line there was a four car pile-up with four young hyenas severely injured, but now they’re healing too quick, and the cops have strapped them all to the hospital bed.” 

“That’s illegal,” said Harry. “If they didn’t attack or do anything they have no legal cause to do that.” Harry had been quite proud of helping push that bill forward. He’d donated a significant amount to lycanthrope rights, and yes even in the Muggle world these days his name held weight. He had argued that Bounty Hunters and Executioners like him needed to focus on the real rogues, not the innocent ones, and how could they do that if the police kept panicking over every little thing. “Did you call the lawyer? I’d take Hermione or Draco with you.” When it came to the safety of the Coalition and it’s members, Micah, Rafael, and Marcus always took one of them in case memory modifiers were needed. Rafael and Marcus were both out of state currently, and so it fell on Micah to help them. 

“I’ll take Hermione. What about you? What did Dolph want?” asked Micah when Edward’s call ended. 

“A series of serial murders in New Orleans have asked for my assistance,” said Edward before Harry answered. Harry told them about Dolph, and Micah told Edward about his weres. Edward frowned. “You going alone, Little Raven?” 

“Come on, now, Lover, I can take care of myself,” said Harry waving his wand, and Edward smirked in approval when Edward’s clothes were switched for his usual well fitted jeans and a light blue crew neck. Even his shoes were changed for the dragon hide. He knew the man would want out of what he’d call a clown suit. Good places to hide things, but not comfortable in the slightest when you wanted to blow someone’s head off. He hadn’t forgotten Edward’s well-fitted belt with all his must-haves attached. 

“But you haven’t fed,” Micah pointed out. 

“I’ll be okay. I can always stop in at the Circus on my way back.” It wasn’t like he needed bodyguards. But Edward didn’t like leaving him alone. ”It’s not like we don’t feed it regularly.” He was proud to say that he hadn’t had an attack or an incident like Leo Harlan since it happened. He didn’t have the best control yet, but his men were, if anything, very diligent. He could be trusted a few hours on his own, and with most people asleep and doing their own thing. He really didn’t need a bodyguard. 

“I need to call Toy about heading to New Orleans, I’ll mention food for Little Raven.” Edward stated, ignoring Harry’s argument. “If they aren’t needed they can act as an escort to the Circus.” 

Before Harry could respond Teddy bounced down the stairs in his black pajama set. The shirt had a silhouette of a leopard and wolf curled under a moon. Draco found it during an online shopping binge he went on three months ago. Teddy loved it. “Are you all leaving?”

“Hey, Teddy Bear, did you have fun at the wedding tonight?” Harry asked as the boy rushed over to hug him. 

“Yup. Mrs Katie wants us over for dinner again soon.” 

“We’ll see. I’ve been called in for work and will stop by the Circus on my way home.” Harry stated calmly. 

“Ok! Say hi to Père for me.”

“Say bye to Edward, Pup. He’s going to be gone for a while. Then run up and tell Hermione I need her for a Coalition emergency. See Draco if something happens tonight.” Micah pushed him to Edward who was just getting off the phone a second time.

“I can’t wait till I’m old enough to help everyone!” said Teddy wrapping his arms around Edward’s neck as he was picked up and nuzzling him. 

“You already do, Teddy Bear. You’re the supreme healer in the family,” Harry cooed with a stroke through his hair. Teddy glowed at Harry’s words. 

Harry headed upstairs and made a quick change of his clothes. He didn’t want to blind anyone with the garish orange. He could have switched out his own clothes, but considering his closet seemed to change almost daily he had no idea what he had. He ended up choosing snug fitting black jeans and an emerald green short-sleeved with white ties on the sleeves and shoulders. He stuffed his feet into his boots as Edward came in for a couple extra weapons, and his Federal Marshall’s jacket. 

“Do take care of yourself, Little Raven. You have a forgetful streak.” 

“I’ll take care,” Harry promised. It was true, he had a hard time keeping up with all his hungers. Because of his connection with Micah, sometimes the ardeur would transform to meat or blood, or because of Jean-Claude if it couldn’t get sex fast enough, and then there was his real world hunger. That was the one that got lost by the wayside. If he wasn’t cooking or feeding the others on a semi-regular basis then it was a sure thing that Harry would have starved because he wouldn’t have even thought about himself. Sex was not enough to feed the human body; no matter how much he enjoyed it.

Hermione was already downstairs. Her hair tied in a loose fitting braid. If there was one thing Hermione hated above all else, it was injustice for a minority group. Harry had a feeling she’d be much more useful than any lawyer, but the lawyer was needed just in case. 

Edward was taking his Hummer. Micah was riding with Hermione in her car, and Harry of course had his Escalade. One of the boys of the household had his Lexus these days. Usually it was Stephen or Gregory. Noah had been awoken from his sleep to accompany them. He still had his sights set on Hermione, but she was as far from interested as one could get. She had started dating Louie after all. Both of them had bonded really well as Harry suspected they would. 

Richard Zeeman, the former Freki of Thronnos Rokke Clan, had burned both of them at some point. Louie had been devastated by what had happened, but he was practical enough to see what was happening in front of him. Harry had feared the wererat would blame him for his best friend’s death. It was a good thing Louie was a good person who understood shifter politics better than him because Harry wouldn’t have blamed him if he had. Hermione had only felt sad that she couldn’t do more to stop Richard from escalating to the point of no return. It also helped that both were geniuses in their own right. So it made for a much better match than Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. 

A half hour later saw Harry staring down at the dead woman. She was sequestered between a set of dumpsters in the parking lot, and her skin was sheet white. More so than most freshly dead bodies, which meant she’d been drained. Why would they stuff the body behind the dumpster, and then let her wool coat hang open to expose her naked body that anyone could see through the darkness? 

He revolved around the right most dumpster to see her blonde hair spread out across the black pavement. She was a bit smaller than Harry, and she lay on her back, the coat spread beneath her, but it was still secure on her arms. It meant that she was completely exposed for any customer walking by. It would be almost impossible not to see her. So it had been intentional? She wore a pair of painful looking plastic stiletto heels. At least five inches high. Her head was tucked to the right, exposing bite marks on her long neck. Vampire bite marks. 

_ Well shit _ , Harry thought darkly. It’d been quite a while since a vampire was responsible for a crime and had caught the radar of RPIT. St. Louis had been proud to boast being the safest city from a preternatural crime standpoint. They couldn’t say the same for human crime, and Harry loved reminding anyone about this fact. It didn’t endear him to most humans who often had a sour expression when their views were flipped around. Her hair had been pulled back, combed out. She was on display.  _ A show _ . 

On the mound of her small breasts were another series of bite marks with two thin lines of blood trickling from them. There was no blood at the neck wound. He was going to have to move the dumpsters to get back there. He was going to have to move the body around to look for more bite marks, and likely sexual intercourse as well. 

Last time he saw something like this was Mr. Oliver and Alejandro. But both of those vampires were as dead as dead could get. 

Dolph was standing tall, and easy to spot. He was built like a professional wrestler, and at one time Harry thought very highly of him. But now, they were merely cool acquaintances. At least Lucile seemed to still like him. Dolph saw Harry coming toward him. He didn’t smile or say hi. Not that he ever did before, but it was especially apparent now with his stiffened demeanor. 

“I need to move the dumpsters to look at the body. I also need to move the body around to look for more bite marks. Can I do that without disturbing anything technicians still need from the crime scene?” 

He looked at Harry, and he could see the dark shadow flickering on his face. He was not happy to have Harry there. He started to say something, glanced around at the other detectives, the uniforms, the crime scene techs, and beyond that to the awaiting ambulance. He then shook his head and motioned Harry off to one side. 

Harry could feel people’s gazes following them as they moved away. All of the detectives knew about Dolph having dragged him up a flight of stairs during a crime scene back in December. It had not been a pretty sight. He lost over a decades worth of respect with that one small move, and the brass was watching him carefully. 

He leaned over and spoke low. “I don’t like you being here.” 

“I can leave. Good luck with that,” said Harry boldly causing Dolph’s eyes to narrow. 

“I need to know that you don’t have a conflict of interest here.” 

“As much a conflict as you would if this was a human attack,” said Harry. “Same with the rest of these uniforms and detectives, but I don’t see anyone able to take your place should a human do violence against another human.” 

Harry’s snark was definitely not appreciated. Dolph’s glare intensified. “If it was a vamp kill, then it was someone that belongs to your boyfriend.” 

“As if my boyfriend is the only vampire in this city. I can tell by looking with all the different marks, it’s a group. A group with no control, which means they likely are not a part of Jean-Claude’s Kiss. By the way, how’s the human side going? How many calls a night do you get on rape, theft, and murder?” he asked keeping his tone light and genial. Maybe a touch mocking. 

Harry could see the visible effort Dolph was making to control himself. His hands were in fists at his sides, his eyes were closed, and he was taking deep breaths. Harry could go ahead and rattle off many facts that he wouldn’t want to hear, but he thought what he’d said was more than enough. “You’re defending them already.” 

“I’m not defending vampires. I’m stating statistics, and there’s a whole other branch of vampires in this city under a completely separate leader. A good three to five hundred that have nothing to do with Jean-Claude, and through process of elimination and numbers, it seems that Jean-Claude’s people are a minority. Church of Eternal Life if you don’t remember.” Yeah, Harry was being an arse. This man dragged him through a bloody crime scene, and then threatened one of his wolves. 

Sue him. 

“The church’s members are more straightlaced than right-wing Christians.” 

“They do come off as rather sanctimonious, I’ll grant you that, but straight-laced out of their master’s eye? I doubt it. A vampire has a specific set of needs, all of them do, and being a straight-laced right-wing activist as a vampire is not a good way to meet those needs. Jean-Claude has about thirty vampires oathed to him, the church has three to five hundred. You also heard him, not since he became master has he made a vampire, because he’s aware of the sacrifices. The Church on the other hand is well known for its tactics in spreading eternal youth without the rest of the tidbits that go into being a vampire. Jean-Claude would destroy one of his should they be caught doing this shit.”

“You’re admitting that your boyfriend is a murderer?” 

It was actually still legal for vampire on vampires violence and death. Harry took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “You know, Dolph, this is getting old. Yeah, I’m seeing a vampire, but it has nothing to do with doing my job. Get over it.” 

He looked away. “I don’t know how.” 

“Then learn,” said Harry. “I’ve done all I can to show you the truth, Jean-Claude did not hold back when he reminded Darrin that eternal life was more like an eternal struggle. He did not try and color the reality like your future daughter in law did. He laid it out for you to hear and to see for yourself. So let’s suck it up, Dolph, and work with me. I want these people caught.” 

“Plural?” He seemed to finally realize just how side-tracked he was getting. 

“I’ve only seen two marks so far, but they both have a slightly different pattern to them. The one on the chest is smaller, less space between the fangs. So, yeah, at least two, but I’m betting more.” 

“Why?” 

“Because they bled her out. There’s almost no blood anywhere. Two vampires couldn’t drain an adult human being without leaving a mess. They’d need more mouths to hold that much blood.” 

“Maybe she was killed somewhere else.” 

Harry frowned. “She’s outside wearing five-inch plastic stilettos, in an expensive wool coat, and not much else. She is also in front of a strip-club. She likely stepped out for a smoke or some fresh air.” 

Dolph reached into his pocket and got out his ever present notebook. “She’s been identified as one Charlene Morresey, twenty-two, works as a stripper, worked as a stripper. Yes, she did smoke, but she told one of the other girls she was going outside for a breath of fresh air.” 

“She probably didn’t know them.” 

“How so?” 

“She came out to get some air, not to visit.” 

He nodded and made a note. “There’s no sign of struggle. Yet, it’s like she came out, and just walked over there with them. She wouldn’t do that for strangers.” 

“If she was under control, she would.” 

“So one of the vampires is an older one.” 

“Likely. It’s not entirely necessary for one to be old. Just to be powerful. Someone with good mind control powers--that I’m sure of,” said Harry thoughtfully. “Especially if they caught her at a distance. I don’t think she’d approach a group of men on her own, they have strict safety regulations in strip-clubs about that sort of thing. It’s harder for vampires to control at a distance, but it’s not impossible.” 

He was still writing in his notebook. 

“Some clubs require at least two dancers to be outside together and always within the sights of the bouncer or security. I guess this isn’t one of those clubs,” Harry said thinking about Jean-Claude’s regulations. He took his boys safety seriously. Sure, most were shifters and vampires, but there was always someone stronger out there. He knew that better than anyone else. “Now, can I move the dumpster and move the body around? Or do you need the techies to get back in there and do their thing first?” 

“I had them wait for you,” he said without looking up from his writing. 

Harry didn’t bother to try and get anything out of him. As far as Harry was concerned, Dolph had burned a bridge to the point it had turned to ash. There was no going back. Maybe there would be if he’d left Jason alone. If Dolph could have, he’d have thrown Jason into one of those facilities and halfway houses. Harry had preached to them all about how horrible those places were, and no one deserved to be in them. For years, he had worked to keep RPIT on his side about it, and trying not to use that particular threat. It used to work. 

He worked the body, carefully measuring each of the bites. A matching set of bite marks on the other side of her neck, and they were close to the same size as the ones on the left side. He measured each one of the marks with his tape measure. He counted the bites on her chest, that made seven. Seven vampires, and more than enough to drain an adult human dry and leave very little behind. 

No obvious sexual assault, but that wasn’t so unusual. There was more to vampire sexuality than physical contact after all. Draco had gone into a lot of information about Asher’s bites being orgasmic. Harry personally didn’t want to hear about it. 

Dolph stood to the side waiting quietly, and not really looking at anything. Harry was soon finished. “Well?” 

“Seven. One has to be good enough at mind control to have made their victim enjoy what was happening or at least not mind it. Someone would have heard her screams otherwise.” 

“In a club?” 

“There’s a bouncer at the door around the corner, and I’m sure on a Friday night a lot of people coming in and out.” Dolph only nodded. “Besides, there’s no sign of struggle. They’ll look at her nails, but there won’t be any sign of a fight. The victim didn’t even know what was happening, or at least not until it was way too late.” 

“Sure of that?” 

“It depends on how strong her mind is, and whether she was a natural fighter or not. If seven vampires had surrounded her, she might have given up. What kind of person was she? Was she a fighter?” 

“Don’t know yet.” 

“If she was a fighter, then the vampire mind tricks were used. If she wasn’t, if she was real docile, then maybe not. I’d say we were looking for a bunch of young vampires then, but I don’t believe it. At least one is old or powerful, powerful enough to control a group, and not leave a mess.” 

“They hid the body.” 

Harry shook his head. “And then exposed it, so that someone would find it. It’s a classic serial crime.” 

Dolph nodded darkly. “Yes, that’s what I was thinking. But multiples at once?” 

“Maybe one is the serial, the powerful one, and the others are just along for the ride. If they’re blood oathed to him.” 

“Him?” 

“A woman could do it easily, but I’ve learned that a lot of female vampires have a sadistic streak. They like keeping their prey alive.” He knew that probably wasn’t going to help Dolph with his future daughter in law, but it was true. 

Almost every female vampire he’d met up until now except for a couple exceptions had a twisted sense of sexual sadism mixed with their bloodlust. More so than the men. It was almost an art to them. 

“She’s not been dead two hours. Her skin is cool to touch and rigor hasn’t set in.” 

Dolph checked his notes. “Less than two hours since she was on stage.” 

“Was she done?” 

“No.” 

“She would have been missed eventually, but not so soon. Someone really wanted us here.” It was all Harry could think about. He looked around at all the bright halogen lights. There was no good place to hide in this parking lot, except behind the dumpsters. “Did the attack happen behind the dumpster?” 

“Or a car.” 

“Or van.” 

“Serial’s best friend.” No one ever used the term serial lightly. It always meant a lot of paperwork. Merlin, they’d just finished a serial shifter in December. Harry did not want to think about that one. Dolph had been almost apoplectic when he learned that Harry had walked into a mall full of innocent ‘humans’ with wolves on a leash, and gunned down Roy Van Anders. Hey! At least he had an Order of Execution. But, then Dolph seemed more furious that top brass had approved of lycanthropes assisting the investigation. It had been good press that day for lycanthropes. It helped their standing, and Irving Griswold had managed to get a friend of his to do a huge expose on the benefits of lycanthropes protecting a community of innocents. It helped with the abuse laws that got passed that Harry had supported. 

That reminded him of Edward’s call. “Ted got a call at the same time as me. He’s going down to New Orleans. A group of serial murders. I wonder if that’s connected?” 

Dolph’s face went slack. “They called him?” he asked severely. 

“Yeah, he’s got a good relationship with the Head of the Taskforce, and so he often works New Orleans since he’s so close by.” It could be a connection. He also worked in several other states when it suited him. “I wonder though, Denis-Luc St. John is the Federal Marshall and Executioner of the area. He’s pretty good. So it has to be something big or St. John is out of the area.” 

Edward was a hot commodity now that he was a Federal Marshall, and Bradford often times called him in on various lycanthrope cases. 

“And the body at the church?” 

“It was a witch. My world’s kind of witch.” 

“How could you tell that?” 

“Outside witches couldn’t possibly hope to cast the spells that were in her book. She was also a Black. I thought at first she might be a squib, but when I saw who was connected to her… I had to call them in.” 

“Who?” 

“An international terrorist of my kind, but he’s long since dead. But at least a case can be closed. My guess is she ran here instead of marrying him. He might have crossed boarders, not wanting to be humiliated and all. Purebloods take things like that seriously. He likely killed her. The ME mentioned that she looked like she was asleep. It’s one sign of a Killing Curse being used against her. It shows up in the non-magical world as a sudden heart-attack with the exception of abrasions and scarring. My guess is right about now, the British Ministry and MACUSA are having a fun conversation with their heads suspended in a hearth. So glad I’m not involved anymore.” 

Dolph could only stare at him. “Why would they be here of all places?” he asked suspiciously. 

“The Blacks’ set up shop here, Dolph. Are you really going to accuse me of a twenty something year old crime? I’m twenty-six, and Evan Rosier died sometime before I was born or after.” 

“By who?” 

“Auror Alastor Moody.” 

“And he is?” 

“Dead. He was a veteran Auror.” 

“How did he die? Convenient that he’s dead.” 

“Yeah, he died saving my life when I was a kid. Murderers come in all sorts of flavors Dolph, and the war I was in was all human. Zerbrowski has all the information if you need it. Also the numbers for the MACUSA. If that’s all?” 

He wasn’t going to stand there and defend himself and his world against the likes of Dolph. Once upon a time, Harry would have been happy to sit down with the man and give him as much information and knowledge as he could stuff inside of him. But, that ship had sailed far and away. They’d be civil and do their jobs for the sake of the crime and victims; but apart from that, Harry wanted nothing to do with him. He reminded him too much of Vernon Dursley these days. 

Yeah, just no.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: dubious consent/borderline rape because of the arduer at the end of this chapter

His Escalade was sitting in a near empty lot across from the strip-club, and he felt their familiar energy and tether before he saw them landing smoothly like slick velvet shadows in front of his gleaming white Escalade. 

It was some of their newest, and while Harry didn’t know them personally, he’d seen their paperwork and photographs. First was Requiem, and Harry had to visibly work hard not to scowl. 

Jean-Claude was going to be in so much trouble. 

Not that Harry had a problem with Requiem. Not in the least little bit. He didn’t even know the beautiful man. But, he knew Requiem was staunchly heterosexual, and Harry would never want to take that away from someone when the ardeur reared it’s ugly head. Harry and Jean-Claude had personal profiles of every one of their vampires. It’s why Harry knew their vamps were innocent. Harry recognized that after Belle Morte and the council that they needed more soldiers, and to entice the right kind of master vampires or near master level they needed to have hold of something that most masters didn’t possess due to age and being out of touch. 

Humanity. So, Harry suggested creating profiles of all their vampires, and learning more about them and where they were best suited. It wouldn’t do to have a good soldier put in the wrong place after all, and Jean-Claude wanted to offer them freedom like no other master. A freedom to be who they wanted to be. You know, outside of murder and mayhem and all that terrorizing stuff. It had worked, and with Great Britain folding they got a lot of British vampires seeking sanctuary. 

Requiem had long beautiful rich black hair that trailed down his back and settled around his waist with startling cornflower blue eyes with a hint of turquoise that were the brightest that Harry had ever seen. If he thought Jason and Asher’s eyes were bright that was nothing compared to the beautiful man named Requiem. Harry also knew that he had been on Belle Morte’s radar. She had specific tastes, and she had wanted to complete her blue-eyed trio with Requiem as the brightest, Asher as the lightest, and Jean-Claude as the darkest. 

He had a thin trimmed black mustache, and a black Vandyke beard. He had a cloak much like those in his world would wear. It sat heavy and dangling at his ankles, and his British accent was twice as thick as Harry’s. He walked with the grace and stature of a Pureblood wizard. Harry wouldn’t be surprised if there was some lineage in there somewhere. 

The second, Byron, could not have been more different if you tried. He was a couple inches shorter than even Harry, and just as slender. He, like Harry, looked young and unfinished as if he still had years to go, but would never reach those years. In fact, the two could probably swap clothes and it would be a perfect fit. Body wise it was like looking in a mirror. 

His eyes were a soft grey and they were large and wide. His hair was a soft shoulder length brown and streaked with perfect curls. Hermione would forever be jealous of the vampires and even Micah who could tame their hair while hers bushed out if she didn’t take proper steps. 

“Hello there, luv, the master has sent us to you,” said Bryon bowing at him. “I’m Byron.” 

“Requiem,” said Requiem in a soft cultured voice. He was eyeing Harry wearily. 

“I’m Harry. Nice to meet you, and I’ll be having words with Jean,” Harry said looking at Requiem. 

“Hm? I do not understand, have I done something wrong?” he asked, suddenly fearful. 

“Not at all. It’s him who has done wrong,” said Harry boldly. “Come on, we should get out of here. You two don’t need to be implicated by anyone seeing you right now.” He gently pushed the men toward his car. “Jean can have such bad timing sometimes.” 

“I don’t understand?” 

Harry looked over his shoulder at all the emergency vehicles. “We’ll greet each other in the car. Go, go! Please, I don’t want you in trouble just for being here.” Both men didn’t argue. Requiem ended up in the passenger seat, Byron in the back. Harry breathed. “Better.” His Escalade had black tinted windows, and nothing could look through it. Not even a flashlight. Ah, the joys of magic. 

“I’m sorry, have we done something?” asked Byron leaning around. Requiem was still staring at him, stiff and careful. 

Harry got comfort and smiled sweetly at them. “Of course not. I’m sorry. A woman was murdered, and it was a group of vampires. I don’t think this is a good place for you to be right now. You don’t need to be welcomed by me and then accused of something so awful.” Both of them seemed to suddenly understand. 

“You do not believe it was us even though you’ve never met us?” asked Requiem. 

“I know it wasn’t you. For one, I helped approve of you coming over, and I pride myself on reading others well. No matter the species. I recognize you by your pictures. There’s also a reason we had your measurements in your profiles Jean keeps. It’s to help keep down on crime in the area, and false accusations. Of which no one deserves just for being what you are.” 

Requiem was now eyeing him strangely. “I - must thank you for that. You sound rather considerate, but why do you seem upset with the Master?” 

“Because I thought Jason would be the one brought,” said Harry, trying not to give away any other reasons. It would be rude to start talking about sexual appetites and food on a first meeting. “Since you know, everyone knows Jason.” And knows Harry would kill them if they tried to pin something on Jason ever again. He’d destroy them. Jason might be one of Harry’s favorite people. He didn’t like playing favorites, but sometimes you couldn’t help it. It was the same with Stephen and Gregory. They were his babies along with the other wereleopards, but those three had special places in his heart that would not see them dislodged anytime soon. 

“Are you unhappy with us, luv?” asked Byron. 

“No, of course not. It’s complicated,” Harry muttered as he started the engine, and quickly pulled out. “To the Circus?” 

“Guilty Pleasures, Jean-Claude requests your presence,” said Requiem. 

It had been a while since Harry had been to Guilty Pleasures, after Marcus and Micah took care of Stephen and Gregory’s father, Harry had gone to sit in on their sets a few times. If only to provide them moral support, and to show he was proud of them. Someone had to take care of them, and Harry was that someone. 

“I must admit I was surprised by Jean-Claude’s screenings. Most Masters don’t bother,” said Requiem. 

“Most just take what they can control,” said Byron. 

“Jean-Claude has always been about perfection.” 

Requiem chuckled richly. “Don’t I know it?”

“Besides, we’ve done a lot of work to make sure preternatural crime stays as far out of the human eye as possible, and to try and squash it.” 

“Yes, I have seen. I do believe the council was particularly irritated by how well oiled Jean-Claude’s city has become. I don’t think they expected it,” said Requiem. 

Harry snorted. “They don’t expect much. I’m hardly impressed with the council.” 

“Bold of you to say that so easily,” said Byron. 

“But not untrue,” said Requiem with knowledge. “I suppose you have met his fountainhead?”

“Yep, not impressed,” said Harry dryly. “And since he’s no longer part of her line, she doesn’t exactly have the same rights as she might have before.” 

“She’s never cared for the rights of others,” said Requiem with the same dry lilt. 

“No, I don’t suppose she does,” he said, keeping both hands on the wheel. “But I do.” 

“What does that mean?” Byron asked. 

“It means I care. I care very much. I’m more than Jean’s human servant.” 

“So we’ve been told. I do not quite understand what that means exactly,” Requiem admitted. “I’ve heard your name multiple times before. It seems well known in my mother country.” 

Harry smiled small. “Course it would be. I am from Britain myself. Spent most of my time in Scotland at a magic school.” 

Requiem’s eyes flashed. “You are part of the old blood?” 

“Yep.” 

“I see, I think I may understand if only a little bit. How intriguing. But, I did not think the old blood could be made into servants.” 

“Merlin knows what I am, Requiem. I have yet to figure it out. So, what are your orders from Jean?” he asked carefully. 

“To protect and assist you of all your needs,” said Byron, and Harry saw in the rear-view mirror that his eyes were flashing in excitement. Hopeful. Eager. 

_ Oh bloody hell _ . Requiem looked downright uncomfortable. 

Harry let out a noise. “Yes, he is in trouble,” he sulked. “Big trouble!” 

Both men couldn’t help but look nervously at Harry who was now pouting as they sat at a blaring red light. It was almost three in the morning according to the clock on the dashboard. A few more hours until dawn. More than enough time to chastise and lecture Jean-Claude. In private of course. He’d never do that in the open where others could hear them. 

As he drove through the green-light, his skin began to prickle coldly, and a weird sensation began on the back of his neck. He double checked Requiem and Byron, both seemed content to be quiet. A lot of vampires didn’t do small talk. Most had lived way too long to bother, and so it wasn’t them or their energy. 

But something was catching hold of him, and he wondered if he’d gone too long between feeding the ardeur? But, no. He had fed it about four o’ clock yesterday. Sure it was a while, but this wasn’t right. For all of a moment, his eyes didn’t see the road. It was like they tunneled down into a narrow point, and he flinched when a hand settled on his shoulder. “Duckie?” 

He snapped his head up to see Requiem close by, hand on the wheel of Harry’s car, and Byron holding onto his shoulders. 

That was when an intense flare of fear scattered through Harry. It clenched his insides, and began to twist him. 

“I suppose I must…” Requiem lamented leaning closer only for Harry to draw away. 

“Wha-?” 

“We are aware of your ardeur. It is kicking in.” 

“No!” Harry pushed Requiem away aware of how he smelled of an expensive cognac type of cologne. He tried to avoid the bright eyes that seared into him, and shuddered at Byron’s hands on his shoulders. It wasn’t the ardeur, it was fear. “ _ No _ .” That was when something with bright red hair dropped down in front of the Escalade. Harry slammed on his breaks, and thanked Hermione and Draco that he stopped so easily. 

More fear worked its way through Harry causing his breathing to catch. It reminded him of Dementors, that ice cold feel of endless screams and suffering. 

“Is that Damian?” Byron asked suddenly, and it drew Harry out of the fear in his head. 

Harry was already out of the Escalade, stumbling as terror tried to claw at him. “Damian!” Damian was huddled on the pavement, not caring about the headlights beaming right at him. 

“No! No!” Harry pushed his own fear aside, and cringed when he knelt down and made contact with his vampire servant who shuddered violently. 

Harry’s pulse was jumping in his throat, and Damian twisted on the pavement and curled himself around Harry. “Damian, what’s going on? Can you hear me?” Harry pushed his hair aside, and tried to touch his face making Damian cry out as he shivered, and that strong wave of fear flowed through him once more breaking past his defenses. He said nothing, and continued to convulse. His body trying to stretch over Harry as he clung to him. 

“Luv, what has happened? What is going on?” asked Byron. 

“No idea.” 

“Why is Damian here? He was supposed to be at Danse Macabre,” said Requiem. “He looks crazed, hungry.” 

“He can’t be. He fed tonight,” Harry assured and gritted his teeth as he felt Damian tightening his grip. “Damian, have you fed?” He wanted to double check. Seth never failed. Something was definitely wrong, and the pulse in his throat quickened, and his eyes became more hollow as Harry leaned down to push his face into Damian’s hair. “Damian… Damian come to me, tell me what’s wrong!” He gripped the shuddering vampire, and Harry let out a gasp when that spine tingling terror exploded through his body, and he was remembering something he’d never seen before. 

It was a great bloody battle, the sound of swords clashing, battle-axes slicing through the air, shields coming up to defend, and try as Harry might, chaos was all he could see. He could taste the metal and salty sweat of hundreds of men fighting brutally for what, no one knew. It was simply what they were. His fingers clung to what it could as a man’s throat began to spill hot across his skin in a bright gush of blood. The feel of his blade hacked deep to a numbing point. His heart lodged into his throat as familiar faces swam into view, blue eyes, green, blond and red-haired. All like him. The feel of a ship beneath his feet, the swaying of the boat, and the sounds of the expansive gray sea. A dark castle on a lonely Irish shore. A feeling of death, impending, and something like nails began to scratch at the surface. Harry hadn’t realized he was screaming as he did what he could to take whatever Damian was fearing into himself. 

Flickering torch-lights burned through his retinas as they wound their way up the dark tower until they came across a shadow. They tried to run from the tower that brimmed with shadows, terror chased after them, clinging and clawing its way as the gate crashed down, entrapping them within. As they turned to make a stand, the fear crushed them until they couldn’t breath. Many dropped weapons, and madness took hold. 

A shadow stepped out into the starlight, and it was a woman. A woman with skin white as bone, lips red as blood, and hair like golden spiderwebs. Harry could feel how terrible and beautiful she was. A haunting terror like Medusa and her head of snakes. She smiled, that first curve of red red lips, that first glimpse of teeth that no mortal mouth would hold. 

“Mine.” 

And through the thick fog of fear, Harry somehow found a voice. “No,” he answered a memory that would never answer back. 

The images began to bounce and jump until Harry found Damian lying in a bed, with that terrible beauty riding him. His body was filling up, about to spill over, and Harry’s ardeur stirred beneath his chest. He could feel Damian’s body on the edge of pleasure, and then she would change it, and with a flex of her will like her thighs, fear so great and awful that it shriveled him, tore him back from pleasure, threw him close to endless madness, and then it would pull back like the ocean pulling away from the shore, and she would begin again. Over and over, over and over, pleasure, terror, pleasure, and terror. 

Harry couldn’t let this continue. He pushed at the seams of the fear and ripped the haunting terrible woman from the image. He threw his own fear out and suddenly the images shifted to hundreds of ice cold floating Dementors swarming in a sea of black that transformed into a vortex. It sent the woman rolling across the ground shrieking. 

“Mine!” She tried to scream, but Harry pushed it forward, ignoring his own haunting memories that whispered to him. It felt like she was trying to claw at them, rip something out of them, and then a soft velvet voice floated through them. 

_ “She is trying to rip your marks.”  _ It sounded like Jean-Claude. 

Harry shuddered and fed the image’s fear, trying to cast it away from Damian.  _ “How to stop it?” _

_ “I can pull back, but it will cost energy. You will need to feed, and feed heavy.” _

_ “I won’t feed on the unwilling, _ ” Harry ground out. “ _ You know I won’t do it. _ ” 

_ “Please, if you wish to save Damian. You must feed. We do not have enough energy with all of us so far away…” _ He could feel Jean-Claude shudder through him as the icy cold waves of Dementors spread ice through his veins, but the ardeur spilled across it making Harry feel as though he were being scorched. 

He ignored Jean-Claude’s warning of feeding the ardeur, one damn thing at a time here! He couldn’t do it all, first deal with Damian’s former master who was trying to shred the marks, and then deal with his ardeur. Yes, order amongst the chaos. He didn’t need his men to do everything. He was strong enough to defend him and his vampire servant.  _ “Damian’s mine, not yours, Jean-Claude. Do not interfere!”  _

It’d been a long time since Harry thought about his first real fear, Dementors had been the thing that had always frozen him, the thing that had always stopped him in his tracks. So why had it been called up? Is this her power? To call upon the worst fears? Harry’s other fears are a lot more intangible. He had few, but this one of the few that was solid. 

But, if it was Dementors. He could fight it, and as they began to swarm and bare down on him and Damian. He flung his magic out. “Expecto Patronum!” The only thing that stopped a Dementor. His eyes began to lower as a gold and silver shower of happiness and warmth spread through his body. It danced up and down his spine and slowed his rushing pulse as his mental mind began to expand, and he folded it over Damian to include him. He could see the large Pale Rider dancing and cantering through fog with it’s ten-foot-tall scythe out, screams and shrills weren’t as important as protecting Damian. To stop her from destroying him in her jealous rage.

Harry’s power made Damian’s heart-beat. No longer was it Jean-Claude’s power nor was it this blasted woman. He let out a great shudder, and his body felt as though it had been plunged into something hot, and when he came to, voices were calling his name. Ones he didn’t recognize right off the bat. He was lying flat on the pavement with a familiar muscled frame over top of him, silk yards of scarlet lay across his face. A cast iron grip held him at the waist. 

“I’m not sure this was covered in the manual,” Requiem admitted, and Harry tried to shift only for Damian to tighten. 

“Luv, can you hear me?” Byron knelt down by Harry’s head, and Damian raised his head and snarled at him. “Easy there.”

Harry saw his face was fully feral, his eyes narrowing like sharp needles with emerald green points. His fangs were exposed, and his face became entirely vampiric. 

“We need to get him off before Jean-Claude loses his servant,” said Requiem. “Don’t make us force you.”

A roll of power from Requiem was unleashed toward Damian, but Harry instinctively drew a magical shield around them. “It’s fine, Requiem,” said Harry sucking in the hot perfumed air of the night mixed with Damian. “He’s mine. Damian-?” He curved up Damian’s alabaster white cheek to turn him. “She’s gone. You’re safe.”

Harry knew in that moment what was coming next, Damian was exhausted and hungry, mentally and physically. He sighed and tilted his neck, and Damian pounced so fast that both Byron and Requiem flinched. He grimaced when Damian’s fangs sank into his neck beneath the torc, and his blood began to spill.

Harry raised his hand and threaded it through Damian’s hair, allowing him to drink. His own eyes slightly rolling at the sensation. Damian’s hips pushing into him, his fingers working to get beneath his shirt to bare flesh. For most, blood was an aphrodisiac. It got all cylinders firing, and their hunger for sex was as strong as it was for blood. 

So imagine contending with an ardeur on top of that? Merlin above all, but then again, Harry was dealing with multiple hungers. Damn, Belle Morte! It was her fault, entirely. 

Harry had never truly had any designs on Damian. Sure, he was a lovely enough bloke to look at, but Harry always felt that they might be distantly related, and so that kind of put him off. The fact that he was Harry’s to take care of, and then there was the whole power structure. Harry held too much power over him. 

But it was hard right now, he hadn’t fed the ardeur in a while, he had a body on top of him. He had the closeness, and his beast inside was well aware of that. He was no longer riding the fear. His fear sensors were much different to the average person, no matter the species. It was made harder to resist when Harry realized that Damian was wearing black satin slacks that hugged against his hips and with the blood flowing, he was swelling. It also didn’t help that Harry always had a need to touch him. Place a hand on his shoulder, to touch his cheek, and anything he could to touch some part of Damian’s skin. 

Harry still wasn’t sure what Damian got from him aside from being able to taste food, and potentially walk around in the daylight, which he was way too terrified to do. 

Damian let out a sultry moan, and pressed deeper into Harry, his breaths becoming hotter the longer he stayed clasped. He pried himself willingly from Harry’s neck so as not to take too much. Harry could taste and feel Damian’s pulse in his own throat as blood stained lips sucked at his chin, and continued their climb to drink him in. 

Harry tried to push away, but Damian’s hands snapped around his wrists too fast, and the vampire’s tongue was diving and forcing his own sexual reactions to the surface until he gave into what Damian wanted. 

“And here I thought I would get to be his food,” Byron sulked from somewhere in the distance. 

Harry’s skin was so hyper stimulated that it prickled as Damian sank into him. He sucked and pushed, tasting the loneliness that poured into his mouth. He tilted to lay his cheek against Harry’s, his tongue lapping and probing into him.

“D-Damian, it’s the blood, not you,” Harry tried to move from under Damian as the beast continued to stir further up his stomach. It was threatening to jump out of his chest, and just take Damian over. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t do that. 

“Yes, I do,” Damian snarled. “You’re my master, I want you to touch me.” 

“But… you really don’t want…” Fuck! Damian had dived back toward his neck, but it wasn’t blood he was now after. It was arousing Harry, and somehow he just knew exactly where to taste, sending all the tiny white hairs on his body standing on end. His tongue was like velvet, and it circled his skin up and down his collarbone making his eyes roll. “I’m male… You don’t want males…” he choked out, trying to keep down on the ardeur that was fighting tooth and nail to break out of him. 

“I want my master. That’s all that matters,” Damian growled pushing into Harry causing their hips to meet as zaps of pleasure teased him. 

“Forgive me for interrupting, but do you think it’s wise to do this out in the middle of a street? It may be deserted now, but that can always change,” said Requiem delicately. 

“I’m trying not to do anything. Damian…” But Harry’s voice was lost when Damian kissed him again. He tried to push away, and get out from under him, but that was like getting out from under a truck, and the more he pushed the more Damian’s body reacted to him. 

Damian was a complicated person. Harry knew that his former master had beat all the emotions out of him until he was well and truly a sociopath in the clinical terms, and Harry was going to guess that maybe what Damian got from Harry was the need for physical contact. 

He realized that Damian had sought him out when the fear gripped hold of him. He didn’t go to Jean-Claude. He didn’t go to anyone. He simply fled to find him before the fear could take him away. Damian wanted safety, he wanted physical contact that would not terrify him. 

If he didn’t do something soon though, his ardeur was going to break through. He could not let his ardeur take everyone, and he could hear Jean-Claude’s whispers for him to feed. Damn that vampire! Harry was going to kick his arse! 

“Go back to Jean, Requiem.”

“We were given very specific instructions, Little Prince. I can’t go against them.”

“I’m his Human Servant and am ordering you back.” Harry didn’t want Requiem caught up in this. He would not force another and cause them to go against their nature.

“You are the Human Servant, yes, but his orders still trump yours, luv.” Byron spoke up.

“Damian, this isn’t what you really want.” Harry moaned as Damian pushed their hips together again. He was slowly losing the fight. “I won’t force someone. Not again.” He cried out.

“From what the master explained, once it is released no one feels like they’re being forced.” Byron hunched down by Harry’s head. “There are worse fates too.” Harry moaned as hands carded through his hair, the ardeur rising like a pulse in his throat. 

“It’s not… fair to you!” Harry panted. “Not fair at all. I don’t care if it doesn’t feel like not being forced. It is force. Requiem, please go. I know what Belle tried to make you do. I won’t do that too.” 

“Now, now let’s remove ourselves from the pavement, darling. It does you no good to fight what you can’t yet control. I am a big boy. I can decide for myself.” 

And it was like Harry was suddenly suspended, and every ounce of control and proper coherent thought evaporated into the night sky. Damian had forced them off the pavement, and Requiem melted into Harry’s back, coal black hair folding over and a mouth too delicious for words began to suck at his neck. Harry wrapped his legs around Damian. “Perhaps I will not mind this, Little Prince. Come on, Byron. Open the door.” 

He was placed into the backseat that magically expanded, and Requiem was suddenly right there on top of him. He could hear and feel the slide of cloth, smooth pale hands working their way down Harry’s body. 

Requiem kissed him, and Harry’s breath became lost as he wrapped around the man like a serpent. He pushed himself up as Damian slid beneath Harry, tearing at his clothes. His magic reacted for them, relieving them piece by piece, and then Requiem was off him and Byron’s deep grey eyes rolled like fog causing everything to become hazy. 

Harry twisted onto his stomach to lick at the expanse of Damian’s chest. He was narrower of shoulder than Jean-Claude, and his waist seemed to go on forever, smooth and creamy. Harry lapped all the way down as someone’s hands massaged down the dip of his back. He shivered when a mouth began to suck the back of his calf, and for some reason he knew that was Requiem. He had a sensual and soft touch, Byron’s were more eager. It was like Damian was carved out of ivory, and his hair only made the contrast more stunning. 

“Please, please,” Damian moaned as Harry sucked down to his throbbing cock. His cheeks filled with a pink color as Harry mouthed around it, and swallowed him. Harry felt the need dripping from Damian who gripped his hair, Byron’s mouth was biting and sucking, drawing a taste of blood into his mouth, and moaning as he ground his naked hips into Harry. 

He could feel how lonely Damian was and taste the emptiness. The ardeur seized hold of a memory that had him in a room that overlooked the sea with silver bars upon the windows. They were heavy with runes and the sound of the surf always through the windows, so that if he turned away, he could still hear it. She’d given him one of the best rooms in the castle as his prison, because she had a way of knowing what things meant. A way of knowing what would hurt the most. 

Harry growled, and swallowed the imagine, and shoved his own desires into Damian making the vampire convulse with pleasures. He sucked out Damian’s first orgasm, and then he climbed back up, and kissed him as Byron’s fingers pushed into his soaked entrance. His magic having paved the way for him to be easily entered. 

“Fuck, he’s burning up.” 

“Console, lubrication,” Harry choked out, and Requiem reached back to get it. 

“It’s the ardeur. His body knows his needs, that old blood magic is working for him,” Requiem’s voice was thick and heady, filled with lust and desire, and he rolled it across his tongue and into Damian’s mouth. 

Damian seized him, not bothering to be gentle, twisting Harry’s hips and limbs so that he was suddenly falling backwards into Byron, and his legs swooping around. Damian lathered himself up, and Harry tried to stop him. He tried to push through the haze. “Are you sure?” 

Damian didn’t answer, and with little warning, he slammed into Harry with a mad hunger. Harry’s ardeur rose and unleashed, wrapping around the men in the car. Byron held his body as Damian rode inside of him. Byron sucked at the skin of his neck, and Requiem lapped at his chest, fisting and teasing his hyper sensitive cock. 

Damian did not let up. He thrust and pumped into Harry, pulling and tugging his body that he slid down away from Byron. He turned his head and Requiem’s cock was right there, standing hard and long at attention. He swallowed it, fingers dived into his hair, forcing him further until the whole length rested in his mouth, the tip of Requiem’s cock pulsed in his throat. Harry worked him, moaning with every unsatisfied need that zapped through him. 

He was hungry. So fucking hungry that it gnawed at him, and the men around him answered his hunger. Damian’s thrusts, Byron’s mouth to Harry’s burning skin, and Harry wrapped around Requiem.

Damian’s orgasms spilled inside of him, Requiem’s filled his mouth, and Byron coated his back. Damian whined as Harry sucked him in. 

“You should release him before he sucks you dry, Damian,” Requiem warned. 

Damian growled and arched over Harry causing the wizard to convulse with his own orgasms that turned into a raging fuel of fire. It was like something was sucking down his lust, and causing him to hunger. More and more; and he moved like velvet, unwrapping himself from Damian who was shaking, and pawing at him. He turned to Byron, trying to keep Requiem at a distance. Knowing that he wouldn’t truly want Harry, and so he pushed Byron to the seat and straddled him with a force, slamming onto him making Byron cry out. 

“Fuck me… yes!” 

“Wrong…” Harry grit out. “Fuck me.” He rode Byron’s body hard and fast, and his mouth dived down and used his neck as a chew toy. His teeth gnawing into the sweet flesh as Byron cried out, begging for more.

“Looks like it’s my turn.” 

Before Harry could realize what was happening, Requiem took him by the hips and stilled him. 

“You don’t have to…” 

“Now, Little Prince, I’m not going to leave you unsatisfied, the ardeur hungers and I answer.” Harry’s eyes rolled when he smoothly managed to slide his cock to join Byron’s. He moaned as his hips were forced to still, Byron’s sweat coated him as Requiem took control, and moved their hips in a painfully slow way that had the pleasure and lust zapping him like an electric shock. “Besides, there are exceptions to golden rules,” Requiem tenderly kissed his blazing cheek, and Harry rode them both. His beast acting for him when his body became too weak. It moved through him and took possession, making him squirm and writhe, and bounce on both of them. 

“I can’t hold it in,” Byron moaned, and Requiem tutted at him. 

“You’re out of training,” Requiem said, making Byron glare. 

“Fine, you fuck him. Let’s see how long you last,” he growled spitefully. 

And the positions were suddenly changed, Requiem had pulled Harry and flipped him. It was kind of embarrassing how so many people could manhandle him, and get away from it. He placed Harry back on top of Byron, spread his legs, and he dived into Harry in a long stroke causing him to squeal as he arched his back. 

Harry felt as though he were pinned completely, Requiem filling him with smooth expanding thrusts. He plunged into Harry over and over as he writhed beneath him. Damian had jerked his hair, forcing his mouth down to swallow. He wasn’t to be ignored, and so Harry gave in. His breaths were lost, and his body was nearly unable to withstand the pressure that built up and then Byron plunged right back into Harry as if he and Requiem had done it multiple times. No stopping point at all as he stretched open, letting them fill him. 

“You’re a monster, Requiem.” 

“It is the Prince’s wishes,” Requiem remarked, and Harry tried to protest his strange way of speech only for Damian to push his hips further, making his cock hit the back of Harry’s throat. 

Harry was helpless to stop them, and when Requirem moved off, Damian took him, turning him slightly away from Byron’s cock. Byron cursed, wanting more, but Damian refused to relent, and he was dived into again as Requiem held him down, and then poured delicious kisses into his open mouth. His senses were overloading and his skin burned hot to touch. He swallowed Requiem’s lust down his throat, making the man convulse and groan into his mouth. 

The heavy warmth of the ardeur and his final orgasms burst outward instead of inward, and Harry let out a scream. A series of fangs plunged into his throat, and Damian’s body bucked over him. Requiem’s mouth sealed over the fangs, and it was the first time outside of Jean-Claude that Harry was orgasming on a bite and suck. 

Harry screamed until his throat was raw and his voice hoarse, and still they fed from him. Byron stayed pinned somewhere below, thrusting shallowly after Damian collapsed. It was like Harry was caught in an endless loop of pleasure, one movement feeding the others, and then a strange haze of blankness folded over him. 

Luckily, it was brief. A few seconds later and Harry became aware of himself. Byron was choking below him, heaving gulps of air. Harry let out a strangled cough making Byron groan. “Oh, don’t do that,” Byron moaned. “Please no.” 

Harry realized that him coughing made Byron stir, and pushed himself up on his arms. Byron’d been glued to the leather seat. He pushed Harry’s hip still and huffed. “I never thought I’d say that from just one time, but give us a moment to catch our breaths.” 

“Breath?” Requiem said with his face collapsed next to Harry’s. “Not breath, pulse. I knew you had the ardeur, but you should warn a vampire if you can do things like that.” 

Harry instinctively reached for the quiet Damian who migrated up his stomach, running his mouth up the center. Byron glared. “Don’t you get him started again!” 

Harry was confused, the beast of sexual hunger seemed to coil with an inner purr, and it wrapped around the nearest close to him, which happened to be Damian. 

“I think he’s confused,” Requiem said. “Did you not know?” Harry had proverbial question marks over his head. “I knew you would feed from me, but I didn’t know you would bring me.” 

What did that really mean? “Bring us,” said Byron. “Again and again…” He stretched out his legs as best as he could from beneath Harry. “I usually try and keep track of things like that, but I gave up when we passed five. Or was it six.” 

“Eight,” Requiem answered. “Or maybe more. I think I could have kept feeding, we wouldn’t have stopped.” he closed his eyes, and a faint shiver ran through him. “I’d forgotten how many different ways the ardeur could be fed. I’d forgotten how good it could feel.” 

“You’re overwhelming him,” Damian finally spoke, and he nuzzled against Harry. “You cast her away from me, thank you.” Harry’s only answer was to touch his head. “I did not wish to be back in her embrace again… I feared… I feared so hard.” 

“You are talking about your former master?” Requiem sighed. “She is one for the book of nightmares.” 

“Who?” Byron asked. 

“You don’t want to know her name, her name breeds fear. She can hear over distances,” Requiem replied. “Or so they say.” 

Harry let out a snort, yeah right. He wanted to speak, but he was having trouble. His vocals seemed to have seized on their own, and he was upset. He was very upset. Not because of Damian, but because of what had happened altogether. 

Jean-Claude knew better than to bring ‘food’ to him that was unwilling, and he damn well ignored Harry’s one simple request! Dammit! Everyone flinched when Harry’s car began to rock with magic, and the lights in the vehicle started flickering on and off. 

Requiem leaned back. “What is that?” 

“It’s his magic,” said Damian in recognition. 

“What are you to him?” asked Byron. 

“I am his servant.” 

“A human with a vampire servant?” 

“He’s a Necromancer.” 

“Ah,” said Requiem. “Might make some sense to the confusion. Are you okay, little Prince?” 

Harry just looked at him. “I’m sorry.” 

He waved his hand. “There are plenty worse things.” But Harry wasn’t sure if he would agree. 

“Besides, that was such awesome sex!” Byron cheered like a teenager. 

Harry grumbled inwardly. Good sex? Yes. Forced sex? Another yes, and that’s what he was unhappy about. He wasn’t sure if he could provide proper wording without really going all out, and so he settled on silence. 

Merlin help Jean-Claude.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to Lisaly75 for an idea that is revealed in this chapter, provided in a review back in Jan.

It took another ten minutes before everyone could gather enough energy to move again. Harry was thankful that the expansion charms allowed for the four of them to get dressed again from the backseat without anyone getting out. 

“Luv, are you going to continue driving to Guilty Pleasures?” Byron asked as Harry made no indication of moving from the backseat. 

“Harry?” Damian leaned down to look at Harry, face-to-face. “Do either of you know how to drive?”

“Technically, yes. It was listed as something for us to learn and get licenses for driving in the US, but we haven’t yet.” Byron answered.

“Turn it on, put in the destination in the nav, and it will drive on it’s own.” Harry mumbled, before crawling over the seat and raising up one of the 3rd row seats. He clicked his seat belt and waited for the three vampires to figure things out. 

_ What am I going to do? _ Harry thought as he spaced out.  _ I swore to never let that happen again. Things were going so well. Fuck. _ Harry curled his legs up onto the seat and buried his head in his knees. Before any of his thoughts or emotions could make their way down his mental connections, he threw up his occlumency barriers and locked his mind from the others. 

“Harry?” He could feel Damian try to reach out and comfort him. 

“Not now Damian.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. I’m sorry I did that to you and we can chat, but not now. Not now.” Harry turned to rest his cheek on his knee and looked out the window. It felt like moments later the car was parking in his reserved VIP spot. Harry waited for the others to get out before he climbed out of the back. He felt Damian press a hand to his upper back as Requiem and Byron led the way to the club. 

“Fellas, Harry. The master has reserved a spot at the front for you.” Buzz smiled as the four reached him, passing by the line waiting for entrance. Harry offered a small smile in return of the bouncer, but didn’t stick around to speak like he normally would. 

Harry made his way into the club and ignored Byron and Requiem as they tried to direct him to the front. Damian continued to follow Harry as he weaved his way to a back corner of the club. There Harry found what he was looking for. A table that was empty because it had a poor view of the stage and wasn’t by the bar. As he slid onto the back bench he noticed Damian have a quick conversation with the other two before they left and he slid onto the bench opposite. 

“Do you want me to get you anything?” Damian asked looking across the table where Harry had turned himself, back against the wall and legs up on the bench; bent with feet flat. Damian noticed that at some point Harry had removed his boots so his feet were bare on the cloth seat. 

“Mon Amour, your spot is in the front. Why are you hiding in this corner?” Jean-Claude glided up and shot a frown at Damian as if he was why Harry was back here. 

“Water please, Damian.” Harry murmured barely loud enough for the vampires to hear. 

“You heard your master, Damian. Go get mon Amour his drink.” 

“He’s here as your client, send a server over. I’m not leaving him alone.”

“He’s not alone. I’m here.”

“Are you?” Damian challenged. “I don’t think he’s very happy with you right now.”

“Am I interrupting? Requiem sent me over.” Harry looked up from his knees to see Jason at the end of the table. He was dressed in a pair of leather short shorts and an open matching black vest. His skin was slick from sweat. 

_ He must have finished a set. _ Harry thought. Harry must have made a sound or it was simply Jason reading his Lupa, but before anyone could answer Jason slid around Jean-Claude and climbed up the bench. As he drew closer, Harry opened his legs enough for Jason to slide through and Harry curled into him. The smell of Jason’s damp skin was good enough to drown out Jean-Claude’s rose scent. Merlin, he couldn’t even think of looking at Jean-Claude right now without exploding. 

“Lupa?” 

“He fed from Byron, Requiem, and myself.” Damian stated without inflection. “He did as you commanded, fed without consideration of others.” Damian shot the last at Jean-Claude.

“He did well then. Return him to the Circus, Pomme.” Jean-Claude stalked away. Likely to find Byron and Requiem to confirm what Damian claimed.

Jason looked over at Damian as he ran a hand through Harry’s hair. “Lupa swore to never force anyone again,” he whispered. 

“Sit with him as I go get him water.”

“Grab my things from the back? We’ll head out when Nathaniel’s set is done.” Jason called as Damian left. 

For the next three sets, Jason sat on the bench holding Harry. When Damian had returned with water and Jason’s items, both worked to get Harry to drink. In the middle of Dante’s set Nathaniel showed up. 

“Ready?” Nathaniel struck up a conversation with Damian as Jason worked to get Harry back into his shoes and off the bench. Once Harry was up Nathaniel stepped forward and pulled him into a hug. Everyone ignored the fact that Nathaniel, like Jason, was still in his set outfit. Harry ran his hands down Nathaniel’s back before latching tight across his waist, face buried in his neck. The were pressed his cheek to Harry’s, scenting him, and after a few minutes pulled back. Nathaniel led the way to the back hidden door, distracting anyone potentially paying attention with his conversation. 

“Can I stay with you tonight?” Harry whispered to Jason as they left the club. 

“Of course, Lupa. Nathaniel can join and we can be a nice little shifter pile.” 

“Are you ok going home Damian?” He spoke up a little louder. “She shouldn’t come back and I need someone strong I can trust to watch over Teddy and Peter.”

“Of course. Draco, Seth, and I will protect Teddy and Peter.” Damian assured Harry before turning to the weres. “Take care of him.” Nathanial nodded seriously as he curled around Harry’s other side creating a were sandwich. 

Getting to the Circus was a blur, and the next thing he knew Jason and Nathaniel had him stripped, and he was once again sandwiched between them in the stone gray sheet fitted bed. It was large and more modern with no headboard. Jason was so excited when Jean-Claude had given him permission to decorate the room however he wanted to. He had called Harry right away and asked for help making it look like the Lupanar. His walls were painted like the forest around the Lupanar with furniture in a stone gray. Harry had offered to have the trees change with the seasons but Jason hadn’t wanted them to change. He knew that Jason found the room calming, but it wasn’t doing anything for Harry just now.

He curled into Nathaniel’s back and took in a deep breath as he tried to center his focus. He could still smell them on him, and it made him want to go shower and scrub himself raw. Not that he didn’t want it, but… for fuck’s sake. Harry moaned in distress as Jason clutched him tight. 

“Lupa?” 

“Fine.” 

“You’re not fine, Nimir-Ra.” 

Maybe not, but what else could he say? He didn’t want to see or even be around Jean-Claude right now. He felt betrayed and ignored. 

He understood Damian. Damian had needed him, and though Harry did not want to make that a habit or turn his vampire servant into food. He understood when someone needed him; like Gregory the year before. 

But Harry’s needs had been ignored. His wishes discarded like he was a child in Dumbledore’s war again. He ended up falling into an uncomfortable sleep between the two well heated bodies. 

He awoke not a few hours later feeling even worse, and with a pounding headache thumping at his temples. 

“I wouldn’t do that.” 

“He is mien, mon Pomme. I shall take him.” 

“No.” Arms tightened around his waist. 

“Don’t make me angry.” 

“It’s not me you need to worry about.” 

“Leave me alone,” Harry’s voice cracked and was thick with pain. 

“Mon Amour....” 

Harry hissed at him, and flung his magic out with his hand causing a rare noise of discomfort. “You fucking bastard!” He suddenly exploded ripping out of Jason’s arms to sit up. It didn’t matter that the light flickering from the candles and lamps caused nothing but white to fill his vision after the darkness of sleep. 

Jean-Claude was slightly hunched, holding himself across the middle with one forearm. “What did I do, mon Amour?” 

“You don’t even know? You sent Requiem to me of all fucking people!” He exploded. More of his magic swooshed around the room causing Nathaniel and Jason to shiver as his eyes narrowed to points at Jean-Claude. “I told you. No one unwilling! No one not already interested in men! Especially someone I don’t know!” 

“I do not understand, Requiem is one of the best lovers there is… rivals me even.” 

“It’s not the point on who is good and who is not! You betrayed me. All I said was no one unwilling, and what do you do? You send someone unwilling to me!” 

“I had a chat with him. He did not mind.” 

“Like hell he didn’t! I know his story. I know what that banshee did to him! What I have now done to him! I have always done what you wanted me to do, but this… this is too much, Jean-Claude. It doesn’t matter what he says to you. You’re the master, he has to agree. He has no choice but to agree. That’s what I don’t appreciate! Get out!” Harry’s magic rose ever higher, and it pressed down around the room. Harry ignored the tears streaming down his own face. “Just go!” 

“Mon Amour…” 

“Fine. I’ll go…” 

“No!” Jason and Nathaniel both pinned him down. “I know you’re master, Jean-Claude. But I think you need to go and let Lupa cool off, before he burns down the Circus.” 

Harry couldn’t even look at Jean-Claude right now. He flung his magic out causing the master vampire to go sliding. The door opened magically and Jean-Claude was soon behind it when the door slammed shut in his face. “I need a shower.” He crawled carefully over Nathaniel, and used Jason’s personal bathroom. 

He ended up at the bottom of the tub with the hot shower running. He drew his knees to him, and clenched his eyes shut. This ardeur was going to wreck his life if this kept on. Did Jean-Claude not understand? He thought he did really well waiting until they were behind closed doors not flipping out. But, the audacity in Jean-Claude!

He stayed beneath the shower of water until it began to run cool. He forced himself out, and blinked tiredly into the mirror. He had bite marks all across his chest and neck. He even had some purple bruising that hadn’t quite healed. Normally, he healed within an hour or two, but the ardeur had a habit of keeping his wounds from healing. Even with a potion. It was like something inside of him. A wound that would last longer. Like a tattoo, but more temporary at the same time. 

He looked tired, his red eyes had shadows, and he knew that just looking at the sheet white face that he was getting a bit peaky. He hadn’t eaten anything since the reception, and then there was the sex and blood hunger that had taken him over. 

Harry groaned as he gripped the sink and dropped his head. How could Jean-Claude think it was alright? He needed to go apologize to Requiem. What time even was it? Most of the vampires would be down about now.

A tap on the door jolted Harry, and his senses must be off because he hadn’t even sensed the Rat come up behind the door. He quickly shrugged into a spare t-shirt and shorts that belonged to Jason. 

“Harry?” 

“Come in,” said Harry, folding his arms and turning his back on the mirror. He leaned against the counter as Rafael came into the room. “What are you doing here?” 

“Nathaniel called me,” said Rafael. 

“That fast?” 

“It’s been an hour. I tried to wait, but Jason feared you had drowned.” 

Harry snorted. “No. Not drowning yet.” 

Rafael frowned. “You need food.” 

“I think I’ve had my fill,” he said dryly. 

Chuckling, Rafael shook his head. “Not that kind of food. Come on, or I’m going to tell Edward.” 

“Where is he?” Harry asked dubiously. “I don’t want to talk to him.” He meant Jean-Claude. 

“He’s in his room. I’m not here for him. I’m here for you. Come on, don’t make me carry you.” He curled an arm around Harry. A warm rush of calm settled over him, and he leaned heavily against the man. He took in the woodsy scent that came so naturally to him. He was hardly aware of being led to the kitchens. 

“Are any of the other vampires still awake?” 

“No, all are down now. It’s almost eight o’ clock.” 

“Sorry you were dragged here.” 

“I wasn’t dragged. I chose to come,” said Rafael, gently pushing Harry onto the stool in front of the kitchen island. 

Harry stretched his forearms across the cool marble counter and bowed his head with a deep breath as Rafael rummaged around. 

“Good thing Nathaniel had some leftovers from yesterday. I’m not very good at cooking myself,” said Rafael. 

“Who feeds you besides me?” 

“McDonalds, and Hungry Man TV dinners.” 

Harry raised his head. “Not appropriate.” 

Rafael chuckled. “Most weres are natural cooks, we have to be. But, I’m just not natural. I burn everything.” 

“I’m sending you home with more leftovers from now on. What are you trying to burn now?” 

“Soup.” 

“I’ll be impressed if you manage.” 

“You’ve noticed that the more Alpha a shifter is the more food they require.” 

Harry nodded. He had noticed. Micah might look small, but the man could consume half the house the night before the full moon. He tried to limit his intake to healthy foods, but they all became so ravenous. Nathaniel was able to control his hunger a lot better, mostly eating salads and being careful of the carbs. He ate a lot of proteins. Most did. He was glad for the distraction. He needed it. 

“I’m still angry.” 

“I never said you weren’t. You have a right to be,” said Rafael. “But, let me ask you. Does Jean-Claude know why you’re angry?” 

Harry frowned at this. “Of course, he bloody well knows! I said no one unwilling! I was clear on that.”

“Are you sure?” asked Rafael, turning and leaning down on the counter to meet Harry’s eyes. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“You have to remember, Jean-Claude is not human.” 

“I know that!” Harry huffed. 

“He does not think entirely like a human. He is a master vampire from a line that uses sex as the answer for everything. He’s not really understanding where you are coming from.” 

“Just because something feels good doesn’t mean you have to do it,” said Harry. “I put together all the profiles of the vampires coming in and out of the city. Requiem’s biggest plea was to never be forced to seduce a man. It’s why he ran away from Belle Morte. I wouldn’t have minded Byron, and even though Damian really does kind of bother me, I get it. He’s my servant. He wanted to touch me and he needed me. But…” 

“Harry…” 

“What?” 

Rafael touched Harry’s cheeks. “You did nothing wrong.” 

“But, I did.” 

“No. I’m sure you didn’t. Jean-Claude did wrong, but he doesn’t understand why he did wrong.” 

“I thought you said you didn’t talk to him.” 

“I didn’t. But I’m a pretty good judge of character. To be a leader you have to be.” 

“You’re not supposed to calm me down,” Harry grumbled, losing some of the fight in him. 

Rafael chuckled. “I am your animal to call, technically.”

“You’re burning my soup.” 

“Are you impressed?” 

“Maybe.” 

There was also some fresh baked leftover bread. Not many ate it around the Circus as it was loaded with carbs, but Harry knew Nathaniel loved baking things, and Gil, the werefox and resident custodian of the Circus loved bread. Harry ate it and the soup. He hadn’t realized how hungry he actually was until he started spooning it in his mouth. For a long time he said nothing. 

Rafael ate with him, sitting across the counter. 

“Do you have work today?” 

“Nah, I handed it off to the underlings,” said Rafael smirking. “It’s Saturday after all.” 

“I made Edward promise me,” Harry whispered. 

“Promise what?” 

“If I forced anyone, he promised to kill me,” he said weakly. “I don’t want to be a monster of that type. I begged him. He agreed. Just as I agreed to kill him.” 

“Harry…” Rafael was aghast.

“If there’s one thing about Edward I’ve always been able to count on. it’s to do what is necessary. Promise you won’t retaliate against him. Promise me that no one will.”

“No one is killing you, Harry.”

“I don’t think you understand what is in me at times. What I can do,” said Harry solemnly. “I have powers I don’t understand. I have a devil on my shoulder. A devil who has had me by the throat since I was a year old. He’s real and such a force. I don’t want him to consume me; not with this in me. I don’t want to be that. I will not be corrupted in that way.” 

“You are the least corruptible person I know.” 

“Don’t say what you don’t know.” 

“I do know because I can see your heart. It’s why everyone loves you. You don’t make them love you. They just do. You’re just that good,” said Rafael. “You don’t make them do anything against their will, they agree because they want to.” 

“Agree? Did you agree when the ardeur took over? Did the assassin? Did Requiem? You may have said yes at the time; but Requiem told me. The ardeur makes you agree even if you are unwilling.” 

“I did agree, and not because the ardeur drew me in. In fact, it wasn’t entirely like that,” said Rafael. “You wanted me. I kind of liked that.” Harry’s head snapped up in surprise. Rafael was smirking at him. “Is that so hard to believe?” 

“Why?” 

“You needed me. I am a leader. I like being needed, and besides at least now there’s no rumors.” 

Harry couldn’t help but crack a smile. “I do kind of miss saying. ‘I’m not sleeping with Rafael’.” 

“Well you aren’t,” said Rafael grinning. “Not technically. Let me ask you this, what does Jean-Claude’s ardeur feel like?” 

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, I can’t explain it. It’s normal to me. It’s a part of him. He also has good control. He doesn’t lose it like I do. What did my ardeur feel like?” 

“Hot,” Rafael answered. “Like something crawled inside of me. But it wasn’t nothing that wasn’t already there, Harry. I was curious and wished to have you, and so I did. I did not hesitate. As I said before. I could have gotten you back home. I could have restrained you if I wanted to.” 

“But, you’re you. You’re not Requiem who begged not to be back in that woman’s clutches because of her ways. I saw his plea. A handwritten one.” 

“You still see him as a victim.” 

“He is. I tried to send him away but was told that Jean-Claude’s command trumps my wishes.” 

“In the long run that might be true, but it’s also not true at the same time,” said Rafael. “If he were a normal vampire. Yes, Jean-Claude’s commands and orders would be followed to the letter. But he is a master vampire.” 

Harry flinched when Jean-Claude appeared so suddenly, and sank down beside him. Harry glared harshly. Jean-Claude’s face was impassive and almost blank. He was wearing a fur black robe that covered most of him. 

Harry turned away. 

Rafael arched a brow. “You think it’s wise to be here right now?” 

“Likely no. I cannot sleep or even die right now. Interesting. He is shielding so hard, I can feel nothing but emptiness. I wish I understood what I did to betray you, mon Amour.” 

“Jean-Claude. You are aware of how careful he is,” said the Rom with a tone of exasperation. “Why did you send Requiem to him?” 

“It was needed.” 

“Why? You could not have chosen someone else?” 

“I had to test his boundaries. I told him to protect mon Amour, and do as needed to see him safe. It was a test to see whether he was fit to be my third. I was also curious if he could resist the ardeur.” 

Rafael sighed. “You can’t keep treating Harry like his words don’t matter to you.” 

“What are you saying, Rafael? He matters much to me,” said Jean-Claude crossly. 

“You’re not showing it,” said Rafael flatly. “Or did you forget the extremes that he went to, to try and control his ardeur? The fact that he repeatedly burned himself throughout the day in an effort to control it? He’s done everything you’ve ever asked of him, and yet you couldn’t respect this one request from him.” 

“What was that request?” 

“No one unwilling.” 

“I assure you, Requiem is quite willing.” 

“Not in his eyes.” 

“Requiem did not have to feed mon Amour. I did not command him to feed him. I commanded to protect him, and to do all that was necessary to see him safe. Byron was there after all. I figure he would be a great replacement for Jason in the long run. Both have similar temperaments.” 

“You’re hiding something,” Rafael accused. “What were you experimenting with? What are you hiding?” 

Jean-Claude’s face was impassive, and Harry was doing his best not to look at him. “Mon Amour?” Harry continued to keep his gaze away from him. “I command you to look at me!” 

Harry felt the tug of power lasso around him. A compulsion to look over, but he stamped it down, and resisted. 

“Mon Amour… Harry…” Jean-Claude’s tone dropped to a sharper command. 

“Jean-Claude, that might not be the best idea,” Rafael warned. 

“I may be your ‘Human Servant’ but I am not yours to command and compel.” Harry bit out.

“You are being unusually stubborn.” 

“Yes, I am,” Harry growled. “Because that’s who I am, and you seem to have forgotten exactly what I am.”

“You’re a powerful Necromancer.” 

“I’m more than that. A lot more.” 

“What are your motives, Jean-Claude?” Rafael asked. “What are you hiding? What are you testing? You’re risking everything on a test. Why is it so important?” 

“You ask many questions, Rafael.” 

“And Harry deserves the answers.” 

“Oui. He does,” Jean-Claude agreed. “But I also deserve an answer as to why mon Amour thinks I’ve betrayed him.” 

“You betrayed his trust. How much clearer can you get?” asked Rafael. 

“Do I need to bring Requiem in here for our chat? I assure you-” 

“How can he trust Requiem to be honest? He can’t read or hear lies like you can, Jean-Claude. He works on instinct, and right now, his instincts are telling him to keep a distance -  _ from you _ .” 

Jean-Claude sighed, and he shifted. He leaned closer to Harry. “Mon Amour, I am sorry if you believe I have betrayed you. I would never do such a thing.” Harry didn’t bother to respond. He couldn’t tell right now if Jean-Claude was being sincere or not. 

“Then tell him what was so important that you had to send this particular man to Harry. You could have chosen anyone. Jason was here, Stephen, Nathaniel, and there’s even me if you had wanted to.” 

For a moment, it seemed like Jean-Claude wasn’t going to answer, but his sigh grew heavier. “You have met Primo, yes?”

Harry tilted his head at this. “Sort of.” 

“Primo... is a problem. I never mentioned it because I did not want to stress anyone, but Primo is the Dragon’s premiere master vampire. He is about my strength in power,” Jean-Claude confessed. “The Dragon sent him to me, and I know why she has. She wishes to undermine me, possibly have him take my position. She’s never liked Belle or anything that she represents. I sent Requiem to Harry because the ardeur gathers more than lust during a feeding. It collects power. It stores that power away. I did not send any of you because you are shifters. You are not vampires. I must get control of Primo before he ruins everything. I sent Requiem because his power is going to be needed against Primo and the Dragon should they try and attack. You believe the Master of Beasts was something spectacular and strong? He’s a child compared to the Dragon, and then there is…  _ Her.” _

“Her?” asked Rafael. 

“Damian’s master. I got word that she’s not too happy when she found out about Damian’s disconnection. She had been unaware until a certain envoy of Belle Morte let her know in a fit of rage and madness.” 

“Musette,” said Harry plainly. “Is that why she tried to break Damian? Rip the marks?” 

“Oui. You needed to feed double, strong enough to bat her away. Strong enough to send the fear away from you and Damian. She controls through fear, and while we can fight one of them. It is hard to fight both. The Dragon and Her at the same time. We have garnered a lot of interest, mon Amour.” Jean-Claude bowed his head, and slowly reached out to stroke Harry. 

Harry stiffened, and thought about sending a zap toward the man, but he allowed the touch. He still wasn’t happy, and it would take a while for Harry to trust Jean-Claude again. But… if this was true, and Damian’s master was trying to get back at them. Maybe he did understand a little. “Never again, Jean.” 

“What?” 

“Never do that to me again. You will get one more shot. But you send someone like Requiem, who has no interest in men whatsoever, you won’t like the consequences.” 

Rafael grew pensive. “Harry…” 

Harry shook his head. “Promises are promises.”

Rafael dropped it. It wasn’t his place. He wouldn’t break Harry’s confidence. Even if he didn’t like it. 

“If you reopen the connection, I can show you our conversation if it would make you happy, mon Amour. Please, I do not want to see you so unsettled with me.” Harry remained stiff as Jean-Claude folded his body around Harry, his long curly hair tickling at his clean skin. 

“You aren’t going to succeed in seducing me,” Harry grumbled. 

“Non. You are worth more than a seduction.” 

“Yeah, you say that now.” 

“It is true. I try my best to give you all I can to keep you protected. Please, you must understand.” He stroked Harry’s cheek. 

“I said I’d forgive you, but not right now. I just want to be mad for a bit.” It didn’t make much sense to most people, but it did to Harry. He had a right to be angry. Harry stood and walked out of the kitchen. He could barely hear Rafael saying. 

“Accept the doghouse your in, Jean-Claude.” 

“But I have never been in a doghouse.” 

“Now you have.” 

Too bad Harry wasn’t in an amused mood to laugh. He was going back to bed. 

He awoke with the feeling of limbs stretched over him. It was too hot, and skin was right against skin leaving him feverish as he turned with his face buried into a neck. It was rare for Harry to awaken to a calming feeling. He shifted and brushed closer to the skin on skin contact only to hear a moan in his ear. 

“Lucky,” rumbled the sleepy voice of Jason. 

Fingers carded through his hair, and hips pushed into his backside. If they didn’t stop, he wouldn’t be all that calm. The sound of familiar ringing caused a series of curses to chime together as his eyes fluttered open. 

“Why is it when I’m about to get pounced, the phone rings?” Jason sulked. 

“Where is it?” asked the soft voice of Nathaniel. Harry shivered when a hand ran across his chest with way too much freedom. 

“Hell of I know. Can’t we ignore it?” 

“Nimir-Ra won’t like that.”

Harry pulled his hand out of the warmth that it had been tucked away in, and with a tingle of magic the phone shot into his hand. 

“Cheater,” Jason grumbled. 

Harry tried to open it, only to realize it was the newer Blackberry and no longer had the flip. “Eh?” 

“I got it for you.” Nathaniel took it, and even answered it for him. “Hello? Harry Potter-Black’s phone, this is Nathaniel speaking.”

“Nathaniel, hm? Is that the auburn haired one?” 

Harry recognized the voice, the Blackberry’s were unusually loud. 

“Yes sir.” 

“Is Harry there?” 

Nathaniel passed the phone as Jason raised his head. “Who is it?”

“I think it’s Zerbrowski,” said Harry, taking it. “Hello?” 

“Always someone new in your bed.” 

“Neither of them are new, and they’re not in my bed. I’m in Jason’s bed.” 

Zerbrowski let out a laugh as Jason grinned wolfishly. Nathaniel was chuckling quietly and he turned over to cuddle against Harry. His long winding braid was flipped behind him. How the man was able to not roll on it and wince, Harry was never going to know. 

“Auror Glotston wishes to meet with you at the police station.” 

It took Harry a minute to realize what it was about. “I can probably deduce what happened already.” 

“Are you sure about that?” 

“Knowing the Purebloods, I have a good idea,” he said dryly.

“Well, he requested talking to you in person, Harry. He sounded pretty serious about it.” 

Harry huffed. He wasn’t looking forward to going to the station. “Fine, I’ll be there. But I have to go into work, so I have to bring a friend with me.” 

“Great! I’ll send them a message. I tell you, the MACUSA’s way of getting messages sure is interesting.” 

“How did you receive it?” he asked, wondering which avian creature had been used. 

“From a picture frame stuck on the Chief of Police’s wall. A picture frame that is impossible to move.” 

“Ah, typical then.” 

“Is it really?” 

“Mhmm. My Godfather had a portrait of his mother glued to the wall, that shrilling banshee. She made that whole house even more miserable.” 

Zerbrowski laughed. “Haha, your world is getting more and more intriguing every time I hear about it.” 

“So they say. I’ll be in soon.” Harry hung up, and let out a sigh. “I don’t want to go in.” 

“I’d say ditch, but that’s not the adult thing to do,” said Jason. 

“Adulting is hard,” Nathaniel murmured. 

“Least there’s good sex.” 

And Harry couldn’t help but laugh at the two men he was between because neither of them was wrong. Yeah, he was still irritated, and he hoped Jean-Claude learned his lesson. 


	6. Chapter Six

Both Nathaniel and Jason insisted on not leaving him alone today. He had assured them that his ardeur wouldn’t flare, but both of them weren’t taking any chances. 

It was Jason’s words that had him caving. “You want to fuck the whole police station?” Yeah, no. Sometimes, Harry thought Jason was the most wise cutie pie that he had ever met. 

He frowned when he stopped into the bedroom to see Jean-Claude out for the day. He was lying on his back, lovely black curls fanning across the silk covered pillows. His sheets and decorations were various shades of red, and he looked stunning. As usual. 

He sighed, and leaned against the posts at the foot of the bed. He didn’t like feeling sour with one of his men. He loved them so much, and maybe Rafael was right and Jean-Claude just didn’t understand. 

How did he teach a six hundred year old vampire that what he had done was wrong? For Harry, it felt like he had raped Requiem, and for him that was a far worse idea than killing someone. He did not like freewill taken and ripped away. He didn’t care how good something felt. Rape was rape no matter how you water it down or color it. It was not okay. 

But, Jean-Claude probably still had a skewed interpretation of consensual. He’d seen a lot of the man’s memories through his sleep. Strange, he saw more of Jean-Claude’s past than he did the other two. He rarely ever got images of Edward’s memories, and only a few times did he dive into Micah’s while asleep. 

He supposed that was the human servant that opened them up. Now that the initial sting was wearing off, Harry could think appropriately. Maybe they all needed to sit down and talk about these things. He wouldn’t apologize for his actions because Harry felt that he was in the right.

He went over to the tall standing wardrobe that stood beside Jean-Claude’s wardrobe. In fact, there were a total of four of them in the room. Each had been charmed to be almost endless with clothes and accessories that Jean-Claude had spent hours and days crafting to fit needs and tastes. 

Harry stamped down the guilt he felt as he pulled out the outfit that sat on a glass hanger inside the cherry oak doors. Even something so mundane as hangers had a luxurious flare to it. Harry was now used to this between Draco and Jean-Claude. Both men were interesting to say the least. 

He made quick work in the master bathroom. A snug pair of well fitted blood red jeans topped with calf height black boots over top that zipped. The shirt was a two part, a black open thin sleeveless vest with three buttons at the bottom, and beneath it was a thin clingy red shirt. He had wished it was a turtleneck, but thanks to the early June weather Jean-Claude had brought out clothes that would fit. 

He still had multiple bite marks, and so he adjusted the furlined torc so that it sat over the worst of them, the JC diamonds sparkled a hot white beneath the lights against Harry’s throat. Most things didn’t fit the torc, but that was okay. He would never take it off. 

He brushed his teeth and messed with his wild hair. At least now he didn’t look as tired. His eyes were no longer red, and the shadows were receding. He and Micah would never be in the running for most masculine man of the year. 

Harry never thought about the word unfinished before until he met Byron, but that was a good way to look at it. His wasn’t as extreme of course, and at least Micah was all man starting at the shoulders. Harry was simply slim. 

Yeah, made his choice of career difficult. 

He turned and headed out, and frowned when he saw his boys eating meal bars. “Why are you eating that rubbish?” 

“We have to get to the station right?” Nathaniel tilted his head. 

“Not at the expense of your hunger. I’ll feed you.” 

Jason grinned. “We’re supposed to feed you, Lupa. Never know when we’ll need our energy and just so you’re aware, we are very willing.” Harry shook his head, and tried not to blush. 

“I did make coffee,” said Nathaniel. 

Harry definitely accepted that, and he took a banana causing Jason to snicker at him. “Sorry I caused a scene last night. I’ll make sure it doesn’t fall back on you.” 

Jason shrugged. “I get it, Lupa. Jean-Claude is probably the best Master out there, but that’s not to say he is without his faults. Sometimes, he can think too vampire.” 

“I don’t mind him being too vampire or being who he is,” said Harry. “Just don’t want to be in that position. If Jean wanted to test Requiem, he could have told me. At least given me a heads up, and perhaps not use me as the testing grounds. But the fact that he couldn’t afford a second to send a message over our link that said more than  _ feed mon Amour _ , that makes me think he’s forgotten that I’m a person too, and I  _ can _ say no when I want. A person should be able to say no, and that is that.” 

“Are you going to forgive him?” asked Nathaniel. 

“Of course, but he still has to be in the doghouse for a while, thanks for sending Rafael.” He blushed at this. 

“We know how to calm you down, Lupa,” Jason grinned. 

“Rafael is great at calming anyone down,” said Nathaniel snuggling up against Harry who stood between them. “He and Micah make a great tag-team when they’re working with the coalition.” 

Both boys were wearing what he supposed was appropriate. Jason was in a sleeveless shiny blue top that had a pinned neck, and a rather tight pair of button down jeans that gave you no imagination whatsoever to the fact that he was either wearing a thong or wearing nothing at all. His hair was still cut in that executive style with only a top bit of blond hair flickering playfully in his sky blue eyes. 

Nathaniel on the other hand loved his shorter shorts which were black and affixed with a white scarf like belt. He was proud of his toned legs. A pair of legs that could probably snap a happy head in half with his thighs. He had a sleeveless purple tank that made his lilac eyes stand out. As if they needed to stand out. Both were in sneakers, and neither of them sensitive about their height like Harry. 

Both stunning to look at every step of the way. 

Harry promised them a great meal after the station. Maybe take them to a steakhouse? If it was late enough and dark enough he could bring Damian who could help him pick foods from the menu for him to eat. He wouldn’t punish Damian for ever needing him. 

Because Harry was using less magic in public, his belt had been changed to accomodate this. More guns and more ammo. He also had a thigh holster with his Ruger. Edward left nothing to chance. Of course, if Harry could get away with it, he was using his magic because it was just his nature, and his wand was happily tucked away. Teddy kept his Holly wand these days for emergencies. It seemed to like him well enough that it wasn’t hard for the child to use. Hermione tried to use it once, and it very nearly sent her into the next room. In Ollivander’s words.  _ ‘The wand chooses the wizard!’ _

Nathaniel drove, and Harry sat between both boys in the front. He liked that the console moved, and Jason had fun with the radio stations. 

“Least it isn’t bubblegum pop. Seems Teddy has discovered Lady Gaga.” What an odd name. 

“She dances well,” said Nathaniel. 

“Not as good as Shakira!” Jason argued. 

Harry had no idea who or what they were talking about, but it became a playful squabble on who was better, and then someone named Beyonce was tossed into the mix. It made for a fun drive even though Harry hadn’t a clue who these people were. 

“Madonna!” Jason declared. “She’s the Queen,” he stated as though it was such a fact. 

Nathaniel hummed. “Okay. I’ll let you have that and agree. What do you think, Nimir-Ra?” 

“No idea. Ask Draco. I don’t have enough time in the day or night.” 

The police station was in the downtown business area, and this time of the day was a bear. He had to flash his credentials when Nathaniel pulled into the lot. An officer was outside forbidding others not authorized from parking. 

Bypassing security was easy for Harry once in the building. Most of the cops trusted him, knew him on sight, and liked him a lot. Some even recognized Jason, and knowing that he could have filed one hell of a lawsuit made them extra kind to him. Besides, who could be mean to Nathaniel? No one decent. 

RPIT was up a flight of stairs behind a set of double glass doors. It mixed and mingled with a couple other divisions thanks to the lack of budget, and how small the squad was. Before Harry and Dolph had gotten into it, he knew that Dolph was trying to get them their own space inside the area wide building. Some of the preternatural crimes were heavy enough to warrant it, but St. Louis didn’t exactly have the budget. Most of the budget went to the Drug Task Force, which had grown double in size in the last five years. 

Detectives and uniforms moved back and forth, most of them were absent from their messy desks, and Harry blinked when he saw that there were still roses sitting on everyone’s desk. Is Zerbrowski still playing that game? He thought it was amusing that Harry’s house was always filled with fresh roses, but that was because Jean-Claude sent them nearly every day. 

They were all currently a light yellow, which coincided with the chosen week of colors. “Okay, whose bright idea was it to tell Zeze that I have yellow roses this week?” 

Jason snickered, and Nathaniel tilted his head. “Probably Zane. Always a trooper to help his fellow man.” How Nathaniel said that with a straight face as Jason doubled over was beyond Harry. 

“Yeah, with one hell of a blowjob. Actually, my money is on Teddy. You can’t get mad at him.”

That sounded the most likely. Zane would likely annoy someone when questions were asked from him unless it was Harry, Edward, or Micah asking. All his boys had a lot of character, that much was certain. 

Merlioni saw them first, and smirked. “Hey there kiddo, kiddo, and kiddo!” 

Nathaniel looked at him curiously, Jason grinned, and Harry chuckled. “Is that all you can come up with Merlioni?” 

“Well, I could use pretty boy, but we just had a sexual harassment seminar. I don’t think I’m ready to go back.” 

“How is that harassment?” asked Nathaniel confused. 

“I could say, red, blondie, and of course the original kiddo.” 

“Only if I can call you Robbie,” Jason smoothly said, making the man laugh. 

Merlioni had never been one of his favorites on the team, but in the past year or so, the man had become a lot more friendly with Harry, and he was quickly soaring to the top as one of his new favorites. “My mother would hate it, so have at it, kid! New boss man is with the old boss man, those guys in dresses are here.” 

Harry snickered. “Robes.” 

“Is that what they’re called? A dress is a dress, I wonder how much they get paid to wear those?” 

“Probably not enough,” Harry agreed. “Can I take the boys or no?” He hated to leave them out. 

“I wouldn’t advise it, but then what do I know? Since it’s not an official RPIT case, I would say yes, but who knows what Dolph will do? It’s best not. How about I take them with me and introduce them to the new cappuccino machine you got us for Christmas?” 

Harry laughed. For years there had been complaints at the RPIT office about how the coffee was disgusting and their maker had seen better days. So Harry, to show that he had no hard feelings after the Dolph debacle, had gotten them a top of the line cappuccino maker with a year’s supply of fresh coffee and espresso that would be delivered every week. He’d become every cop’s best friend after that. 

“Is that okay with you guys?” 

“Fine with me!” said Jason smirking. “I’ll just hang around and flirt with everyone.” Harry gave him a playful glare as Merlioni barked in laughter. 

“Maybe one of you can show us how to work a couple of the nozzles, most of us are still confused.” 

Harry looked at Nathaniel who nodded. “I’m fine wherever I am.” 

“Good, I’ll be back. Do stay out of trouble.” He looked at Jason whose grin never wavered. 

“Why are you looking at me?” 

“I wonder.” He rubbed both boys on the shoulder as he walked away, he noticed Detective Arnet coming through and stopping to just stare. What was her issue? It didn’t matter to him, maybe she was looking at his boys. It wasn’t a surprise, they were very - accommodating to the eye. 

He oddly enough felt comfortable leaving Merlioni with Nathaniel and Jason, and crossed the floor to the fleet of closed offices until he got to one that had Lieutenant Rudolph Storr across it. He braced himself for what was to come, and then knocked at the door. 

He was given admittance by Zerbrowski, and he had to fight from grimacing when he entered the office that held more than what Harry expected. 

Apart from Dolph who stood behind his desk as the towering Lieutenant with a strange expression on his face, there was also Zerbrowski standing at the edge of the desk closest to the door with a smile on his face. Auror Glotston was there with another man that Harry would have recognized everywhere. Just as tall and towering as Dolph, but his skin was the color of deep dark chocolate. He was completely bald and wore well tailored black robes with silver stitching that had Minister of Magic stitched into the breast. His eyes were just as dark, and he still had the gold hoop through one ear. 

“Kings!” Harry yelped, and Kingsley Shacklebolt was already crossing the room to stand in front of him. He held out his hand. 

“Good to see you again, Harry,” said Kingsley Shacklebolt with the warmest of smiles that made him look years younger. 

Harry shook his hand. “Why are you here? You’re the Minister.” 

“True, but I have ordered the Auror Department that anything from the war and Death Eater activity was to be sent straight to me, no exceptions, since I was a trainee at the time of the first roundup by Alastor; and honestly I wished to see you for myself.” 

Harry tried not to blush. “It’s nice to see you again, Kingsley.” 

“You too, Harry. You look spectacular. You haven’t aged a day.” 

“Yeah, well, what can I say?” Harry brought his shoulders up. 

It could have been more awkward, could have brought back flashes and memories that he’d rather not have, but Kingsley was just a good man. He was as good as the day was long. He was great for Britain. 

Auror Glotston re-introduced himself, and Harry shook his hand. 

“Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, can we get on with it?” asked Dolph stiffly. 

“Of course, we had agreed that once all the information was collected that we would share what happened with Sergeant Zerbrowski and Federal Marshall Harry Potter-Black. We like to honor our promises. We do not take cases away from the non-magical world for no reason, and I believe Sergeant Zerbrowski deserves to learn why.” 

“That’s more than most Feds would do,” said Zerbrowski cheerfully. “Harry kind of explained it that our systems likely would have no information on that part of the world.” 

“He would be correct. In America it has only been a little more than ten years since we opened the International Statue of Secrecy that was erected in 1692, and there wouldn’t even be a birth record of anyone magical born to another magical. This does not account for the rare moments that a no-maj has a magical child. But with the rise in outside magic, and particular circumstances, we always knew that there would come a time when the borders would open and both worlds would merge. 

“The International Statute of Secrecy is the equivalent of the International Union, and the ICW, International Confederation of Wizards, is the collective that chose to close the worlds due to miscommunication and nasty wars in the past that saw too many innocents caught in the crossfire. We knew that nothing could be secret for long, but in an effort to protect everyone, the closing of the borders had been a desperate decision. It’s hard enough to fight one war, but even harder to fight multiple wars. Just as you have your World War I and II we have our very own. We have agreed with the United States of America’s non magical government to work in tandem with each other. For the most part it has been successful. For years, Minister Kingsley and the other Minister’s of Europe have been debating whether they too should open their borders.” 

“I have also come to see how it’s working out,” said Kingsley. “More and more children are turning up with magical talent within muggle households.” 

“Muggle?” Zerbrowski asked. 

“Non magical, my apologies.” 

“The way I hear it, the kind of magic Harry here has is in the blood,” said Dolph. 

“It is. Our Department of Mysteries have researched for centuries into this phenomenon; and the only answer they can come up with is the children showing up now with magical blood in their lines are the descendents of squibs. Squibs meaning children born to a magical family without a drop of magic blood in them. The amount of squibs is often dependent on location and environment, and we also learned that more exposure to neutral and fresh blood has a chance of allowing the once magical blood to reignite. In our world, blood wars were common. Instead of wars based on race and religion, blood was the focus for centuries. Pureblood versus those of Half-Blood and Muggleborn. Muggleborn meaning witches and wizards born from a parent who have no capabilities in magic,” Kingsley clarified. 

“And this pertains to the woman in the church how?” asked Zerbrowski who was writing furiously in his dingy notebook. 

“It’s important to give you the background because Evan Rosier was what you could call a Commandant in the war.” Kingsley walked over to the terrorist bulletin board and tapped his finger on the second in command of one of the terrorist cells that were wanted in the Middle East. “Like him.” 

Auror Glotston nodded. “In the early fall of 1981, half a dozen Death Eaters entered the United States,” said Glotston. “They were on a recruitment drive.” 

“Death Eaters are like Nazis right?” asked Zerbrowski for clarification. 

“Yes. It’s the easiest analogy to use. In our world some people find our blood sacred to the point of idealism that goes wrong,” said Kingsley solemnly. “It was a war that spanned decades, saw multiple generals and Dark Lords rising one after another. Some were successful, some were caught quick enough. But, the last Dark Lord was the most successful as far as Britain was concerned. He felt that his grasp of the magical world was so strong in Britain and France that he decided to come over here, and start preparations. Evan Rosier was one of these Death Eaters. As high of a rank as you could find. No town survived when he blew through, magical or non magical. The Dark Lord of the time was one of the most clever men. He had infiltrated the Ministry of Magic until nothing could be done. He had everyone where he wanted them, it was time for him to move on.” 

Glotston nodded and took over. “Grace Ursula Black was part of a squib line of Blacks that moved over here when they were cast out. Inbreeding was a common symptom in the magical world, there’s only so many you can marry before going into lines of cousins and relatives. Some took it a step further, and the Blacks were one of those families. Contracts of marriage are a common thing with heirs and offsprings born to keep them from muddying the magical pool. But, as a squib there was a lot more freedom until it was discovered that Grace was a witch. She had magical blood. It was weak, but it was there. She came from a clean line of Black’s. She was sent back to Great Britain to join their magical school. She was not talented enough to get a letter from the American schools.” 

“But, the Headmaster of the time was a very accepting man. He would take anyone so long as they had enough talent and the will to learn, even if they were at a disadvantage,” said Kingsley. “Unfortunately due to inheritance laws, Grace Black had to be adopted by the  _ main _ Black family line. She was then betrothed not a second after the magical signature had dried on the documents to Evan Rosier.” 

“Isn’t that illegal?” 

“Sadly no. The Head of an old Pureblood magical family had the rights to magically disown or claim any witch or wizard accepted into their household. Old laws, grandfather laws that are still being looked at with scrutiny, and it’s not just law. It’s strong magic at it’s finest.”

“Why do I get the feeling you knew her personally?” asked Zerbrowski. 

“I did not,” said Kingsley, and he turned to Harry. “But Sirius did.” 

Harry flinched at this. “Sirius?” He hadn’t heard that name in a long time. At least a name not spoken out loud. 

“Yes, he talked about her quite often. He’s the one who helped her get out. He too was disowned because he did not follow their Pureblood propaganda,” he clarified for the room. “He and your father, Harry, gave her enough money and resources to get her out of the country. She hadn’t even finished her education.”  _ That would account for the hole in her education _ , Harry thought. She must have kept that journal, writing all she could remember so she could keep practicing. She would have had to get the MACUSA’s approval to cast magic in the United States. 

“Which means she was a child when she was betrothed for marriage?” Zerbrowski asked aghast. 

“It wasn’t unusual in Pureblood society,” he said grimly. “To start early in hopes of keeping the lines pure. Unfortunately, she made the mistake of going back to where she was born. It was too easy for her to be tracked, and so when Evan Rosier and the Death Eaters came over here for recruitment. He hunted her down, humiliated that his future wife rejected him.” He then withdrew a set of photographs. “Keep in mind, these are… not what you would want to see.” 

“We have seen our fair share of horror,” Dolph defended. 

“Yes, I imagine so, but this is sort of live.” He placed down a series of colored photographs that moved. 

“How do you have these pictures?” Zerbrowski gasped. 

Kingsley locked his fingers together and placed them in front of him. “Evan Rosier took these photographs, and then he sent them back to the family in Great Britain.” 

It was like a horror film gone wrong. Every step had been caught on camera. Grace Black had been dragged to the very Muggle church that Larry and Tammy had married in. She was stripped, tortured, and raped repeatedly by twelve cloaked men. 

They could see her terror, see her screams, see the red crimson blood running over her body. See her mouth opening as each man had their way with her. It was a silent film, played out live and in color. 

At one point, Zerbrowski had to look away. Dolph could only stare. 

And then as if to make matters worse, the gruesome pictures ended, but a sad realization was played out. Evan Rosier washed her naked body, and then they forced her into a wedding dress. Her body was paralyzed and unable to move, and then they stuck her in the floorboards of the church. 

Her eyes were still open when they placed the boards back over her. Harry saw the message loud and clear. She would be walked on until her death by the filthiest and lowliest of Muggles. She could never scream out or call for help, and even if she did why would they save a witch when they burned witches?

Each of the pictures had dates on the back, had sentences of snarky blurbs telling in even greater detail what they do to blood traitors, and that the Dark Lord Voldemort would seize the world, and they would consume all those unworthy. 

“What happened to him?” asked Dolph severely. “And this Voldemort?” 

“Were they successful in their recruitment?” asked Zerbrowski. 

“No,” said Glotston. “An amazing thing happened. Look at the date of the last photo.” 

The date read October 30, 1981, and Harry’s blood ran cold. “D-do you have to tell them about this?” 

“Yes,” said Kingsley looking at Harry. 

“What is it?” asked Dolph. 

“A single baby changed the course of fate and saved hundreds of millions of lives,” said Glotston. “He indirectly protected the United States of America.” 

Kingsley nodded. “Not even a night later, their Dark Lord was blown apart, and in a panic Evan Rosier and his men came rushing back to Britain where we were waiting on them. Alastor Moody, the head of the Auror Department at the time, Fabian and Gideon Prewitt, and myself were all there and waiting. Keep in mind that they had sent a Muggle plane down during their return. Only two of us got out alive that day, but we took them down.” 

“Blown apart?” asked Zerbrowski. 

“For months, Lieutenant Rudolph Storr, you have been bombing the MACUSA office,” said Auror Glotston instead of answering right off the bat. “Asking questions about Harry Potter-Black, why we bend to his will, and why we are so full of corruption that we let a monster like him into America.” 

Harry stood there unable to say anything or even move, and Zerbrowski frowned and turned to his boss in shock. Dolph straightened. “It was a logical question!” 

“No, it wasn’t. You had no facts or evidence.” 

“He’s in bed with monsters!” Dolph growled. “And you let him! Look at his neck. He’s fucking monsters!” he repeated. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m fucking men, but not monsters,” he clarified flatly, which made Dolph’s face light up brighter. 

“You’ve been spouting the word monster for some time, Lieutenant. What you see there in those pictures are monsters. What drove them was monstrous, and Harry Potter-Black ended those monsters, effectively saving both worlds from what you no-maj’s would call an apocalypse.” 

“He was a baby! He couldn’t have done anything.” 

“But he did. A corruption so foul and evil attempted to destroy something so precious and pure as a child, causing the laws of magic to bend; and it shattered him. It stopped a war that could not be won. It stopped the terror for over a decade.” 

“But, it wasn’t over,” said Kingsley solemnly. “Not by a long shot. The Headmaster of the school at the time knew that he was still alive. It brought us peace and allowed us to slowly rebuild, but it wasn’t over.” 

“Alive?” 

“Yes, and he continued to try and return. He continued to try and gain his body back. He continued to try and kill Harry Potter, the one person who ended him. Harry Potter was a child. He was eleven when it began again, and he was seventeen when it finally ended. None of us did a damn thing. It was him. He stopped it. He protected both worlds. He stood as a child soldier and fought against all odds. Voldemort had returned and once again, he ate through the Ministry and governments, but Harry stopped him and no one ever asked him to,” said Kingsley. “He lost friends and family to this monster. He saw death before he could properly speak a word.” 

“The moment we saw Harry Potter’s paperwork to move to the US we didn’t hesitate,” said Glotston. “To have him here, meant the United States would be safer. If only a little bit.” 

“I haven’t seen Harry since he was seventeen years old,” said Kingsley. “But, I’ve kept up. I fought beside him at the last battle. I watched his godson’s parents fight to their last breath. I saw children fighting against full grown adults. Some of them not making it, but none of them regretting giving their lives for others. Harry here inspired an entire generation of children who didn’t know war. He gave them courage to fight back against real monsters.” 

“You have been demanding that we bring Harry Potter-Black up on magical malfeasance for months now,” said Glotston coldly. “That will never happen. It would be suicide to continue down this road and in vain. He protected both of our worlds for years, sacrificing his own life, his sanity, and a childhood he never got to have. I never even met him until a couple days ago. But I will never forget the sacrifices, and the realization that it could have been my kid who had to suffer at the hands of monstrous  _ human beings _ . 

“We don’t treat him special, but we do treat him like he deserves. Full of respect, and in the magical world there is no malfeasance law. That applies to your outside witches. Under our command, they can be charged and executed because they’re breaking the natural laws. You can’t charge a real magical witch or wizard with malfeasance when they live in magic, they breathe in it. If Harry Potter-Black tells us that he needs an Order of Execution because he needs to protect someone from a monster, then yes, we will issue it because once upon a time we in America did ignore warnings. Dark Lord Grindlewald, we ignored it. You all blamed it on Hitler and his regime, they were both pretty big players at the time after all. We were foolish and arrogant to ignore the signs, and it saw the death of thousands of American citizens, no-maj and magical alike. Unlike your government we do not need absolute evidence. We have other ways of determining the validity. We do not need a chain of evidence that leads right to the culprit.” 

“Are you saying he is above the law and reproach?” Dolph sneered. 

“No. We’re saying that we are more than willing to risk our own careers for the lives and safety of others, non-magical and magical because that is the vow we take when we decide to protect and serve.” 

“You still have the old honor system. The one that is based on pride and integrity.” Zerbrowski recognized. 

Glotston nodded sharply. “Yes, Sergeant we do. It still works to this day, no reason to change what is working.” 

“Unlike your world, Lieutenant, the magical world isn’t booming with billions of people,” said Kingsley. 

“And all the monsters he cozies up to?” 

“At one time, Lieutenant, in America if a witch or wizard was seen being too friendly with a no-maj they would have been tried and convicted, sentenced to prison for a good amount of time and a lot of community service. It’s a good thing that law has changed, hm? Not to mention the no-maj in general would have fallen under the guidelines of wiping his or her memory of ever having knowledge of our world.” Dolph had a look of shock on his face. “Once upon a time, we saw you as the monsters. Your kind, without magic. We saw you as useless and pointless. Good thing we no longer believe such things, and it’s those like Harry who have taught us differently over the years, like his Headmaster, and many before him. 

“It would also be completely legal and valid if he were to form a relationship with a vampire or a lycanthrope, even those who were once no-maj. It would be more legal for them to form a relationship than if he were to form one with one of you. So your argument about so-called monsters is invalid. All creatures have the ability and capabilities to become monsters. I’m sure you’ve heard this spiel before, but it doesn’t make it any less true. All that changes is the tools and motives behind it.” 

Dolph was losing the battle, and Harry knew that would cut him. It was like he was trying to hold onto a thread of insanity that was spinning away from him. “If he’s such a fucking saint in your world then what about his image with him fucking multiple men? Does that not deserve a reproach for his shameful behavior in your community?”

Kingsley blinked, and tilted his head. “What’s he talking about, Harry?” he asked confused. 

“I’m not monogamous.” It was the easiest way to say it. 

Glotston chuckled. “It’s not a big deal. It’s perfectly legal in America, and quite common in the magical community. As we explained, the world is not very big, and it isn’t unusual. Polyamorous marriage has been legel since before the statute of secrecy. In fact, it was encouraged for the longest time.” 

Dolph’s mouth dropped, and Kingsley grimaced. “It’s not legal in Britain. It was abolished after Henry VIII went through so many wives, including a potential magical heiress. Divorce isn’t even legal.” 

“Unlike your world, Lieutenant, we do not have it easy when it comes to fertility. You all breed at the drop of a hat. It is very rare for our families to have more than one child because they can’t, and it’s not unusual for them to finally get lucky into their fifties and sixties.” 

“My father’s parents were in their sixties when they finally had him according to the family records.” Harry mentioned. 

Zerbrowski whistled. “Wow, still going at it? What are you all taking? Can I borrow it when I get there?” 

Harry couldn’t help but laugh as Glotston chuckled, Dolph didn’t look pleased. It was like he’d eaten a jalapeno pepper with how red his face was getting. His whole normal world was being ripped apart. 

“I’m sorry, Sergeant Zerbrowski. It’s mostly to do with our magic that allows for it and our longer lives. I’ve heard your world has made strides in the pharmaceutical department,” said Glotston, sounding so very serious that he had Zerbrowski laughing and almost doubling over. 

Even Kingsley’s lip was twitching. “And although it is not smiled upon in Britain nor is it legal, what Harry chooses to do with the life he deserves to have is for him to decide. And considering he lives and works here, the British Ministry has no legal grounds. Nor would we, except for the gossiping rumors and newspapers getting wind of it, but I doubt Harry Potter-Black cares anymore than he did when he lived there.”

“Not in the slightest.” 

Glotston nodded. “Glad you can respect that, Minister. We’ve had quite a lot of squabbles amongst the ICW lobbyists, mostly from your country.” 

“Wait, Auror Glotston are you telling me that MACUSA accepts polyamorous marriage?” Harry asked having realized through all of that what Glotston had said. 

Glotston smiled. “Yes, of course. One hundred percent. Auror Nickelridge’s family for instance are all married, and they consist of three mothers, and two fathers, and the word biological is rather subjective considering we have blood adoption that any DNA consultant would find confusing as all would register as the child’s parents. All the inheritances and titles are split amongst the children.” 

“Yes, three of my men have all blood adopted my godson as have I,” said Harry. “I never want him to end up in the place I was at should something happen to me.” He looked at Kingsley when he said this, and the dark skinned man knew instantly that he meant the Dursleys. “We did it when I stopped by Gringotts to deal with inheritances.”

“That is one of many reasons,” said Glotston. “In the magical world, children are sacred. They are not property so much as they are everything; especially because it is so hard to have one. Allow me to put something in perspective for what I mean. How many cases of child abuse and violence do you get a year?” 

“Too many,” Zerbrowski asked. 

“Did you know that in the magical world it is  _ almost _ physically impossible to abuse a child?” Glotston said to their surprise. “It’s magic, their magic protects them. Of course, they can be disciplined and even spanked should they do wrong, but I’m talking about pure physical abuse and violence. A child’s magic would protect them. It would lash out and treat the abuser like an enemy. Some will be shocked, burned, or even knocked out if they tried. And while they have tried, it gets reported very fast because we have radars on all our magical children here in the US. We detect accidental magic, and a team of our people will make silent inquiries, and investigate whether it is truly an accident or something more malicious.”

“Sounds rather nice,” Zerbrowski confessed. “If only it worked like that here.” He tapped his pen on his knee, and side-eyed Dolph who looked distinctly uncomfortable as the last time he had manhandled Harry, he’d gotten the shit burnt out of him. He’d had to wear gauze for a month, and still had a few scars on his hands from that, which were now hiding under the desk. 

“Indeed,” said Kingsley nodding. “We do not have enough children to go around abusing them, and I guarantee somewhere out there another magical family is wanting that same child. It’s a good system when it works. Sometimes, the system can fail and is flawed.” He looked at Harry again. 

“That’s not on you,” said Harry with arms crossed over his stomach. 

“No, but it was on the Ministry of Magic who ignored all instances of accidental magic in your home,” he confessed. 

“Why would you ignore it?” asked Glotston with a slight frown. 

“Special orders,” said Kingsley with real shame. “The Headmaster, while a good man, was also still a man. He made the decision that Harry’s childhood wellbeing was unimportant because he had to be protected from something bigger and much worse.” 

“I’m not sure if I would agree with that, but let’s move on otherwise we’ll be here talking politics for the rest of the night, and I’m sure Harry Potter-Black and the others have more work to do.” 

Kingsley then produced photographs and a Death Certificate of Evan Rosier. “Here are copies of everything on Evan Rosier’s death so that you can have it filed away for your records. It also states how he died, and his exact location if you wish to have it confirmed.” 

“What about next of kin?” asked Zerbrowski. 

“He’s already in this room. Harry Potter-Black by inheritance and proxy is Grace Ursula Black’s next of kin,” said Kingsley. 

“It should go to Narcissa or Draco,” said Harry, though he doubted they would even know the poor woman. He hoped she was at least at rest with Death now. She deserved peace after that horror. 

“True, but you are the head of the line as declared by your Godfather who was the last Black. Even though he was disowned, he wasn’t disinherited because there were only two Black boys born. Even they weren’t foolish enough to erase his inheritance in case he somehow managed to produce an offspring.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure the Dementors would have just been so accommodating to allow breeding,” Harry drawled, making Kingsley chuckle. 

“Indeed. Minerva tells me you’ve pulled Teddy as well.”

“Yes. As you’ve said Kings, I live and work here. It didn’t make sense to send him all the way to Britain for school when there are brilliant options here. I’ve already been in contact with a few of them, and the Goblins at Gringotts are above wizarding law in regards to adoptions and inheritance, so they had no problem setting all those I chose as Teddy’s legal parents.” 

“I’ve heard you cut Andromeda out,” said Kingsley with concern. 

“I had to. She’s not the same that she used to be after her family died, and while I understand that and feel for her, Teddy doesn’t deserve paying that price.” 

There was some signing to do to release the case, and all that red sort of tape. Dolph had not spoken a word the entire time. Zerbrowski asked a few legal questions, and Glotston produced a book for him to peruse at his leisure. Kingsley was looking at Harry, and he was guessing the man was trying to figure out what had changed or how it had changed. He was not the same boy that Kingsley had seen last. 

“If that’s all I’m needed for I have two boys waiting for me that are getting hungry.” As well as Harry. 

“How about I walk you out?” asked Zerbrowski, signing the last document. 

Harry nodded, and shook Kingsley’s hand. “It’s nice to see you again, Kings.” 

“You too, Harry. It’s kind of bittersweet, I didn’t really believe it when you sent in your leave from the magical world.” 

“It had to be done.”

“I’m just glad you’re finally happy,” said Kingsley earnestly. 

“Yeah, I am. It gets a bit hectic sometimes, but I’ve never been happier.” 

He shook Glotston’s hand, and nodded to Dolph. Zerbrowski followed him out. “That was a lot of information, I think my head is about to explode.” 

“Do it outside,” he muttered, not liking his past having been spilled to anyone. 

“What are the odds, Harry? You’d come across a body related to your family and past?” 

“Fate is a bastard,” Harry grumbled. 

“I thought Fate was considered a woman.” 

“Either way.” 

He found Jason and Nathaniel in the breakroom. Merlioni was enjoying some fresh coffee, and the three were laughing about something. Jessica Arnet was also there beside Merlioni, but she wasn’t saying much. Just staring at Nathaniel like some sort of owl. 

Harry and Zerbrowski glided up to them, and he let his hands fall on their backs and rub up their shoulders. “Everyone being good here?” 

“With Merlioni? I doubt it. He’s not a good baby-sitter you know,” Zerbrowski teased causing Merlioni to bark in laughter. “I mean, the last time he baby-sat my kids, Katie was fuming at the candy stuck to our new couch. He had brought enough candy to send the entire block dancing all night.”

“So says the man who ate half of it before he was out the door,” Merlioni guffawed. “Katie loves me, and I’m the kids best friend!” 

“Somehow, she has a heart that I could never have,” Zerbrowski grinned. 

“That’s because you’re a lech,” Harry nudged. 

“Guilty.” 

“Besides, it’s not us who needs baby-sat at times,” Jason joked, causing Harry to glare at him. 

Everyone laughed at Harry’s expense leaving him to sigh. He casually played with Nathaniel’s braid as everyone talked and laughed, mostly at someone’s expense when he noticed Jessica Arnet was glaring at him. What the hell was her deal? 

“Well, I have to go and get these boys fed.” 

“You need to eat too. Least we had something,” said Nathaniel standing, and hugging Harry. 

“Yeah, I don’t want to get shot in the ass because we didn’t feed you… properly,” Jason grimaced, and Harry just knew he was having mental images of Edward on his ass. 

“So is everyone around you being fucked by you? Or have you left some men for the rest of us?” Arnet mumbled to Harry as everyone started leaving the kitchen. Harry stopped before the exit in shock.

“Pardon?”  _ Surely I didn’t hear her right… _

“I saw your hands all over him last night. Going to the club with a lover, and pawing at both of them when they were mostly naked. How many does that make now? Are you just sleeping with all of the staff your vampire hires? Is that an interview test they have to go through?” Harry couldn’t believe how closely her questions aligned with his thoughts on his situation.

“My sex life isn’t any of your business Detective. However, for your information, both of them with me today are good friends. I was having a bad night last night and they comforted me at the club.”

“Then Brandon’s available?” She asked with a smile.

_ What the hell? First she was accusing me and moody and now she’s all smiles? Who the fuck is Brandon? _

“Is he?”

“Who?”

“Brandon.” Arnet started looking at Harry as if he was the one not making sense. Then he remembered Brandon was Nathaniel’s stage name. 

“Brandon can see whomever he wants. You might want to try actually chatting with him instead of glaring at me or accusing me of sleeping with him. Which, even if I was, is none of your business.” 

“Coming Harry?” Nathaniel popped his head back in, carefully only looking at Harry. “Jason’s trading flirts with Detective Zerbrowski. I don’t think you want them conspiring together long.”

“You’re right, the Detective just had a quick question. Let’s go save future me from these boys.” Harry passed by Arnet, pausing to whisper in her ear. “If you know him as Brandon, you know he’s a were. Which means he’s likely heard this whole conversation. I said he can see whomever he wants, and I’ll hold to that, but I also won’t let him be fucked over by someone who only sees his shows. Frankly, speaking, he is mine, and whether or not it is sexual is not for you to know.”

It was too early for Damian to be awake, but that was okay. Perhaps he’d pick up something banana flavored on the way home. He was only relieved that no one else had heard the conversation. It would have been especially awkward if Kingsley had heard it. 

Not that he had anyone to answer to anymore, but still. His boys were his, and he’d be damned if someone messed with them.


	7. Chapter Seven

It was kind of amazing how much food these two beautiful boys could cut through. He sat between them, laughing as Jason and Nathaniel ate a lot. 

“I’ll work it off,” said Nathaniel grinning. “Besides so long as I don’t fill myself with unnecessary carbs I’ll be fine.” He stuck to lean steak and salad, though he did eye the delicious soft rolls a few times that Harry liked breaking apart with his fingers. 

“Who is on tonight?” Harry asked, not making mentions of the issues with Arnet. She didn’t quite matter in the grand scheme of things and Nathaniel didn’t bring her up despite Harry knowing that he would have heard. 

“Stephen and Gregory, and I think Seth has a set tonight. Also Requiem,” said Jason. “He’s good.” 

Harry grimaced at this. “He dances? He doesn’t seem like the type.” 

“He doesn’t like it, but he’s good at it. It’s always best to have a variety. Stephen, Gregory, and Seth are considered twinks,” said Nathaniel reaching for a second helping of salad. 

“Twinks?” Harry mouthed causing Jason to laugh. 

“You know, boys like me and you who look so young. We would be twinks. Micah would be too and Nathaniel.” 

“So, what kind of category would Requiem fall under?” 

“You know, I don’t really know. He has a classic old world aesthetic, really draws the ladies in.”

“Okay.” It was all he could say. “And Jean-Claude?” 

“Just sex.” 

Harry laughed. Yeah, that sounded about right. 

“Everyone has a type, and Guilty Pleasures tries to find enough of every type to satisfy everyone,” said Nathaniel. “It’s why it’s the hottest club in America, voted twice now.” He didn’t doubt it. Jean-Claude’s club could get away with a lot that the newer clubs couldn’t since it was grandfathered in, and considered a vampire club, which changed the parameters. 

“You know you should really stop in more often, Lupa,” said Jason. “Just relax and have fun. You’re always running off in busy mode. It wouldn’t hurt to take a break.” 

“Tell the Ulfric to come back.” For the last few weeks, Harry had to go down to bars and break up potential fights with the new weres thinking they can handle their alcohol and aggression. It was amazing how easy it was for them to elude their sponsors and mentors. “Do you know how many of you there are?” 

Jason chuckled. “I heard you threw our newest across a biker bar one handed, somehow charmed all of the big burly men to take  _ your _ side, and then made him do a walk of shame out the door but not before he spent the next twelve hours cleaning the entire place until it sparkled, and apologized to each and every patron in the bar.” 

“He kept trying to pick fights, and then he called me a short-shit who only fucks the Ulfric with no real power because I was so human. So I showed him exactly how impressed I was.” 

“Did you really scrub his mouth with soap?” Jason asked wide-eyed. 

“Yep. I told him no one’s allowed to be that nasty.” 

Nathaniel snickered. “He made Zane clean Guilty Pleasures one night when he almost outed Cherry at the nursing home she works at.” 

“That doesn’t seem that bad. It’s pretty spotless.” 

“No, Harry made him clean the sin rooms with a toothbrush.” 

Jason’s eyes widened. “Yuck and ouch!” Although, they’d never complain. Harry’s punishments were usually always fair, and the new weres coming in were a lot less bloodthirsty. The older ones who remembered Raina’s terror practically worshiped Harry. It was as smooth as a large pack could get these days with Harry steadying Marcus’ control. 

Harry grinned. “Hey, I gave him magical mess remover.” 

“With a toothbrush?” 

“It taught him control,” Harry defended. “He almost transformed because a nurse got shitty with him. It could have gone really badly if Cherry hadn’t managed to talk him down. He’s lucky it was me and not Edward.” 

“I’ll never forget that pellet gun fight,” said Jason shaking his head. “How did he hurt all our Alpha’s without a single scratch on him, and with a fucking pellet gun?” 

“It’s Edward, and it got Ulfric’s point across about making use of weaponry.” 

“Did you cast any magic on him?” Nathaniel asked curiously. 

“Nope. He doesn’t need it,” said Harry. “If they want to keep their covers and still be Alpha, they need to take a page out of Shang-Da’s book. The best bodyguard is one who blends in. You never see them coming, and one trick ponies end up hurt or worse. It was for their own good. It’s not shameful to have weapons. You may be bigger and stronger, but sometimes a really good weapon will go further. Especially if you’re in a place where it’s ill-advise to make use of your gifts.” 

It was a fun dinner, and Harry boxed up their leftovers for whoever wanted to eat them. A lot of rolls had gone uneaten.  _ Gil would enjoy it _ , Harry thought. It was then his phone began to ring as Nathaniel accepted the check, and Harry handed him his card. 

“Hello?” 

_ “Glad I caught you, Harry.”  _

“Hi, Mary. I didn’t think I had any appointments until five o’ clock?” It was currently three. 

_ “Bert has asked that you come early. He wants to speak with you. _ ” 

“About?” 

_ “I don’t know, Harry. I’m just the messenger.” _ As usual, she sounded apologetic, making Harry sigh. 

He knew it was likely Bert trying to talk him into something he didn’t want to do. He was still trying it from time to time. “Sure, I’ll be there when I can.” 

_ “He says to just go to his office and wait for him.” _

“His office? I have my own now.” When they became a partnership everyone expressed interest in having their own office, and so they took over the rest of the building. It was nice having a private office these days, especially with his ardeur needing to be fed like clockwork. 

_ “You’ll have to ask him.” _

That didn’t appease him much. Bert was as greedy as he was manipulative. Anything to squeeze a dollar out of someone. “Okay, Mary, thank you for letting me know.” He hung the phone up with a frown. “What is that bugger wanting from me now?” 

“I should go for a jog after eating all that,” said Jason rubbing his flat muscled stomach as Harry signed, and left a healthy tip on the table. 

“Both of us should,” Nathaniel agreed. 

“You need to be dropped off somewhere? I don’t know how long I’ll be.” Both men looked at him blankly. “What?” 

“Lupa, why are you being silly?” 

Nathaniel held the door, and they ignored a couple gawking middle-aged women staring at them or more like staring at him. He was more than used to it. “He’s always silly these days.” 

Harry arched a brow and sighed. “My ardeur is fine. It might be scared with how angry I was last night.” 

“I don’t think it works like that,” Jason said with uncertainty. 

“Hey, I feel great! For the first time in months, my head is clear!” 

“I wonder why?” Nathaniel tilted his head. “I admit, I was hoping I’d be your next,” he said, flushing in the cheeks.

Harry tried to keep the blush off his face. “It’s fine right now. Maybe I’ve finally gotten control of it?” He wasn’t sure how to respond to Nathaniel’s hopeful face and tone, especially after telling off Arnet. 

“It hasn’t been that long.” 

“Feels like it. You know where Animator’s is Nathaniel?” 

“Yep!” 

“So, you’re really not feeling anything?” Jason asked, brushing up against Harry with his body. 

Harry shivered at the heat. “Normal attraction, yes, which is a nice change. Don’t think I don’t notice you boys looking edible. I’m just…” He scrambled around for the right word. “Not hungry right now.” Jason and Nathaniel laughed at him, and Harry sighed softly. “Merlin, the ardeur is a pain in the arse. I kind of miss naturally wanting rather than it just blowing through me!” 

“Perhaps we should test it?” Nathaniel said caressing down Harry’s back, and drawing him closer. 

“We could.” 

Harry made a noise. “Now, boys, no! I don’t need anyone testing anything more! Yes, I’m aware of you. Trust me, I am just like everyone else is. Let my ardeur stay resting. Just for the night.”

“Isn’t he cute, Nathaniel?” 

“Mhmm, Nimir-Ra is really cute.” Harry moaned and flopped his chin toward his chest. “I’m really jealous that he rode you. I want him to ride me.” 

If he could have, he would have crawled beneath the car and just huddled there as his face became full of heat making both shifters chuckle. 

“-And yet we can still produce this fine spicy scent,” Jason pushed his nose into Harry’s cheek, and dragged his mouth down to Harry’s neck. Nathaniel managed to slip a hand beneath his shirt to tease at the small of his back. His overly sensitive skin hated and loved the touch, but doing Nathaniel was just too weird. 

“Car! Now! Work!” He managed to wiggle out from between them, and instead of getting in the front seat, he slipped into the back. Nathaniel and Jason were still laughing the whole time as he crossed his leg over his knee and huffed at them. “Be good boys and drive me!” And then he got redder when their laughter became near howls. “ _ I didn’t mean it like that. _ ” 

“You heard him. Drive him, Nathaniel.” 

“Yep.” 

oOo

Why did everyone think that orange was a good color? Bert’s office had been rearranged and changed into warm yellow and orange tones. At least it was cozier than the ice block blue that it had once been. Most of the office had seen a face-lift thanks to Bert’s interior designer girlfriend, but Harry had put his foot down when she tried to touch his office. Her name was Lana, and she didn’t like Harry one single bit. She was constantly going on about the science of color and how with a business like theirs they needed to make people feel loved and cared for. 

Harry was tempted to explain that the last time he tried to make a client feel loved and cared for, he ended up fucking them over a desk. Instead, he had pulled his vampire sweetie into the office, and told him to go to town. 

It and the lobby were the only rooms in the building that didn’t have a speck of orange in it. It was all cool and plush tones that might have gone overboard on the luxury. Colors of deep royal purple, emerald, silvers, and to Bert’s horror, black. It had always been a contention with Bert Vaughn, the color black. But he was no longer boss, and he knew that it really irked the man that he couldn’t Lord too much over them. Jean-Claude could be called a lot of things, but boring and bad taste was not two of them. 

It wasn’t in Harry’s nature to be spiteful, it was merely the fact that Bert’s girlfriend’s tact needed not only an adjustment, but she caught him on one of his grumpy days. 

His boys were waiting downstairs in the lobby, which had also gotten a face-lift since Harry owned the building. It was a soft shimmery silver with emerald green carpeting, and tasteful artwork that signified their talents. Everyone but Bert had loved it. Go figure. 

He was sitting in front of Bert’s desk, in one of those comfortable dark brown chairs that had replaced the plastic monstrosities they usually used. 

Bert entered, and shut the door behind him. What the hell? Shutting the door was not a good sign. Bert was a six foot four man who once played football in college. He’d started to gain some weight over time causing his middle to expand, but Lana had put him on a diet and exercise program. He looked better, and not nearly as cheap with his overdone tan, and his white-blond hair was actually a yellow blond with only a bit of white at the corners. 

Harry arched a brow as Bert frowned at him. “You know we don’t like such tight jeans in the office during business hours, Harry.” He rounded his big desk and eased into a chair even bigger and browner and more leathery than the one Harry was sitting in. Harry resisted rolling his eyes. 

“Your point being?” Harry asked. 

“You’re also wearing black. We all agreed that we don’t wear black to work. It’s too depressing.” 

“No, you think it’s too depressing. Besides, it’s accompanied by bright blood red. How much more fitting can I get? As for my jeans, I could chuck them off, and wander around. I’m pretty good about the lack of clothes these days.” 

“You’d do it just spite me wouldn’t you?” Bert grunted. “You’ve changed a lot, Harry.” 

“We all do, Bert.” He leaned against the armrest of the chair, and pressed his finger to his temple. “It’s part of the years passing.” 

Harry and Bert used to have a good relationship, but too many times now Bert had sent him inappropriate clients to the point where most of them ended up trying to kill him for some reason or another. Bert was also unhappy about the police and RPIT taking a lot of his attention, though he did like the publicity. It meant more money for him and the rest of the firm. 

Harry was the highest paid Animator, and he was always in the papers for some reason or another. It had seen a massive upsurge in clients. Bert thought that Harry should spend his day and nights raking in clients, for the firm of course. He shouldn’t have a life, and had even made suggestions about when Teddy went off to boarding school how he would have more time to raise in the night, since you know, Harry didn’t need a personal life. 

Yeah, Lana had also made him a bit more arrogant. 

He had also not approved of Jean-Claude, but he wasn’t so far gone like Dolph. Bert was just arrogant. He didn’t care so much about their welfare more than how it looked. 

“Are we done with this?” 

“You still won’t trim your hair, will you?” 

“Nope. My men would kill me if I messed with my hair.” Again. He’d tried to trim it up, but he’d gotten in trouble for it. His men loved his hair and were constantly running a hand through it or fisting it during sex. Harry didn’t know if it was just the sex bit or something else, but at least it was appreciated. He supposed that his hair did have a mind of its own. It wasn’t just untidy. It was wild, literally wild with a mind of its own. It did not need spray or gel to stand up in places. Also because of the marks, his hair had gotten blacker if it was possible. Where most in the preternatural community had long hair, Harry’s was just unruly. Like him. 

His magic must also agree because it’d never gotten too much longer. 

“That brings me to another problem,” he grunted as he leaned forward and folded his hands on his desk. He was trying for that God-awful fatherly look, which only made him look like a bastard. 

“Hm?” 

“Mary tells me that there are two young men in our waiting room. I don’t recognize either of them, and every day these past months there have been different ones here.” 

“Mary tell you this or your girlfriend?” Harry smirked, and it made Bert’s ears go red. 

“It’s tasteless!” Bert said in defense. 

“They’re just sitting and reading a magazine. I don’t see the big deal. They aren’t bothering or distracting anyone.” 

“Taking up space in our lobby, space that is there for clients!”

“Animators, Inc expanded to the whole building. I even asked the other tenants to move to another one of my buildings. That means the whole bottom floor is lobby, stairs, elevators, oh and lobby. If it’s a seats issue I’ll just order more seats. There’s plenty of space.” 

“Keep your boyfriends from the office!”

“Now, Bert, don’t be ridiculous. They aren’t all my boyfriends.” Harry blinked innocently. Bert seemed to heave a sigh of relief. 

“Fine keep your friends-”

“Sure I’ve slept with most that tend to wait in the lobby, but only Edward, Micah, and Jean-Claude could be considered boyfriends. Marcus too on occasion. Mary quite likes it when Micah and Jason come in, says they make her shifts less boring.” Harry smirked as Bert turned red. 

“Keep them out!”

“Can’t.”

“What do you mean can’t?”

“After everything that has happened to me in the last few years I require a certain amount of protection to travel with me. They need to be near enough to react quickly, but they don’t come into client meetings.”

“Send them to Mabel’s then.”

“Too far. They initially insisted on sitting in my office. However, I told them they can’t be in there during client meetings. The lobby was a compromise. My office being on the second floor instead of higher up was another.” Harry shrugged. 

“Is that why you refused the largest office?”

“Yep.” Also, Harry really didn’t care and he knew that John really wanted it to make himself look more important. Manny and Larry were happy with smaller offices. Jamison wanted larger and so did Bert. “What’s this really about Bert? Surely you didn’t insist on Mary calling me to come in before my meeting just to complain about people sitting in the Lobby? My men and who I have in this building are not up for debate.” 

“Do these men even know who you’re dating”” 

“Sure, Edward and Micah live with me full time. Jean-Claude would too if he didn’t have a city to run. Noah, Shang-Da, and Jason were loaned to me. Rafael sometimes comes along to make sure I eat. All are great friends. Marcus comes around every now and then; and Nathaniel is simply mine.” 

Bert’s eyes were only getting wider. “That’s impossible!” He leaned back and started rubbing his temples. 

“How is it impossible?” 

“You can’t-” He paused for a moment as if trying to get the right words across. But, nothing would sound right. Harry knew. 

“What? I can’t be an adult and make my own decisions? I can’t sleep and fuck whoever I want because you and others will find it problematic?” 

“It doesn’t look good for the company.” 

“I don’t think anyone gives a damn who I’m fucking so long as I’m not being bent over their loved one’s gravestone.” He particularly enjoyed the rise in blood pressure, the pulse in his throat seemed to swell. He wasn’t about to tell Bert about the one time Edward almost did exactly that after a client left. “I’m not compromising my safety for your girlfriend’s sensibilities. A girlfriend who doesn’t make you buckets of money.”  _ Instead, she spends it _ . Harry thought, but did not say aloud. “So, why am I really here? You couldn’t have known Jason and Nathaniel were here as they don’t come by that often.” Jason did every so often, and it wasn’t always for the ardeur. He sometimes popped in when he was bored, and they’d go to a real lunch. 

“You really think Jamison or John won’t kick a fuss about this? If I let you bring these men in, I’ll have to let them bring their own.” 

“Why can’t they?” Harry challenged. “If they want to, I don’t see why not. It certainly is big enough, and they are not loitering in the lobby. They are watching everyone entering and waiting for me to come out. So tell me why we are here. I have a long night planned, and two clients waiting on me. I can’t make you money if I’m sitting here listening to you complain because of your girlfriend who doesn’t even work here.” 

“It’s not about her!”

“No, it’s not. It’s about whatever it is that drives you and others to try and tell me how to live my life. I own the building, they stay, get over it, and let’s move on.” 

Bert let out a noise that reminded him of a horse neighing. “Did anyone ever tell you that you are abrupt?” 

“Not really. I’m usually patient. But, today I’m all out of patience. So get on with it.” 

Bert knew he was losing the battle, and so he sat up straighter, and became all professional and client-worthy again. Oh dear. “I need you to hear me out before you get upset.” 

“That’s not a good opener,” Harry grumbled. 

He frowned. “I turned down the job because I knew you wouldn’t take it.” 

“If you turned it down then why are we discussing it?” 

“They doubled your fee.” 

As if it wasn’t high before. Harry’s normal fee was three times that of the next highest paid animator and five times the minimum. “Doesn’t mean I’ll take them. I can’t be bought.” 

“I know you can’t, and I did turn it down,” he repeated. 

Harry just couldn’t believe him. “I’ve never known you to turn down that much.” 

“You gave me a list of cases that you wouldn’t handle. Since you gave me that list, have I sent anything your way that was on it?” 

“No, but I get the feeling you’re about to.” 

“They won’t believe me.” 

“They won’t believe what?” 

“They insist that if you’d only see them, you’d do what they want. I told them you wouldn’t, but they offered fifteen thousand dollars for just an hour of your time. Even if you refuse, the money belongs to Animators, Inc.” 

Harry would say no to that if only on principle because he didn’t like it that people thought money could talk, but he already knew that because it was a partnered firm that everyone else would outvote him. Most didn’t make as much as him, and Larry would probably be the only one who would side with him. Even Manny would want him to take it. “Let John Burke take it.” 

“They don’t want him. They asked for you specifically, by name.” 

Harry dropped his hand to dangle over the rest and deliberated a bit. “What’s the job?” He could at least ask what it was; what would make Bert pull him into his office and go through all the trouble beyond the large paycheck. 

Most of the other animators had come to him en masse and practically begged him to at least be nicer about talking to people when they offered outrageous sums of money. Harry honestly hated the way it worked. Sometimes, he thought about just upping and quitting. But he couldn’t do that. If he did, St. Louis might get overrun. You couldn’t just raise random dead in cemeteries after all, and it would be wrong without reason. It’s why his fees were typically high. He didn’t care about the money. He cared about the one being raised. 

Bert was now all smiles as though he had already convinced Harry. He sometimes suspected that Bert had been behind the meeting. Manny and the others swore up and down he hadn’t been. Jamison shockingly enough insisted the loudest and most often. 

“The Browns’ son died about three years ago. They want you to raise him and ask some questions.” 

Suspicious. “That’s not cause to turn them down, so tell me the rest.” 

“Well, the son was murdered.” 

Harry lurched forward. “Dammit, Bert. No! I can’t raise a murder victim. None of us here can.” 

“You used to do it.” 

“Yeah, that was before I found out what happens when you raise a murder vic as a zombie! Last time I did Bert, I wound up unconscious as the damn thing went for it’s murderer, and because I had one of my  _ lovers _ there to control the situation no one else died!” He had emphasized lovers to remind Bert why he had men in the lobby. It was more than sex. “If they have conscious knowledge of their own murder, they will make a beeline to that person, and rip through all protections that were set up. Not to mention the new laws that went into effect.” With Harry and many other Animator’s help. “A murdered person rises from the grave, and goes straight for the murderer. No exceptions. They become uncontrollable, and if that happens there won’t be an Animators, Inc with all the lawsuits!” 

“Couldn’t the police just follow them, sort of like they do bloodhounds?” 

He was serious? “You’re kidding me? They’re not dogs, they were once living, and when someone steals that life from them they get vengeful. It’s not a matter of following them when they eat straight through anything in their path. They don’t exactly take buses or sidewalks! Not to mention the Animator that raised the zombie would be liable for all the damage, including the deaths. If one of us raised this boy, and he killed anyone… or even injured them before it was controlled, we’d be charged with murder. The only reason I got away with what happened in Philly is because of my lover and the zombie’s murderer was right there.” It didn’t help that when he did go unconscious, all bloodied from a gunshot, he had risen the entire graveyard. It would be mutiny if someone wasn’t there to stop it. “I will not do it.” 

He looked sad, probably about the money. “I told them you’d explain it to them.” 

“You should have explained to them yourself. I’ve told you this before, and I know the others have as well. If Larry had been in Philly, he’d be dead. There would have been no wedding, and he wouldn’t be able to see his child born, Bert. It was just luck and a strange fate that saw me there instead. Me and my men who always watch over me.” 

Bert sighed as though he were tired. Really? Sitting on his arse all day made him tired? “They asked me if I was an animator, when I said no, they wouldn’t believe me. They said if they could just meet with Mr. Potter-Black, they’re sure they could change your mind.” 

Harry snorted. “Right. Just on principle, I wouldn’t give them the time of day. You should have had security escort them out without compromise.” It was this reason that Bert didn’t deserve to be the boss. When you were over others, you had to accept responsibility, and part of that responsibility was the employees safety. Bert only cared about money, and very little else except maybe what things looked like. 

Harry had already said he wasn’t spiteful, until he was pushed far enough. 

“Harry please, just meet with them.”

“Fine, I’ll meet with them. It will be a short meeting as I will explain once again why no legal animator will take their case. Then I’ll have security escort them out. You get your check.”

“Thank you!”

“The only reason I’m agreeing is I know Manny’s oldest is starting their college search soon and they had to spend savings on fixing Rosita’s car.” Why that woman had a fancy car when she was a stay-at-home Mom, Harry didn’t understand; but it had taken a large chunk out of their college savings fund to fix it.

“If you didn’t do this they may very well go to someone less than legal.” 

“Then let them,” said Harry spitefully to Bert’s shock. “Let them go to someone who would be more than willing to take their money and raise their son; because if they do, I’ll be there with a warrant of execution for all of them.” 

“You wouldn’t!” 

Harry’s face went as cold and blank as Edward’s did. “You want to try me? These clients would be held liable, and though they are not animators, they would be the instruments, and so they would be under magical malfeasance by proxy.” 

“You wouldn’t be so cruel.” 

“Try me,” he repeated. And Bert did not want to try him. He could see the defeat, and slight touch of fear wafted off the older man as he slumped his shoulders. 

“What happened to you, Harry? You used to be so warm-hearted and kind.” 

“Until you push me over the edge, Bert. A person can only be taken advantage of so many times before they’ve had enough, and I’ve had decades. Since I was born in a twisted sort of way.” He didn’t bother to say anymore as he rose, and headed out of the office. 

He was fuming. For some reason, he was more angry than he’d been in a long time. It was as bad as last night. A fury that was white hot and it laced around his insides, and he could feel some beast inside wanting to get out. It wasn’t the ardeur. It was something else entirely. 

He sat with his legs crossed behind his desk as Mrs. Barbara Brown and Mr. Steve Brown went back and forth, showing him half their family album. He looked at them, but kept his expression neutral. It would hurt more in the long run if he used sympathy with these people. 

Yes, he felt for them, but it simply wasn’t possible to do what they needed. They were the classic couple. She was once the perfect blond cheerleader, and he was likely the quarterback. They probably went to all those proms and dances together, and married straight out of high school. The most successful white picket fence life possible. 

“He was a straight A student, Mr. Potter-Black, and here’s the last picture he painted. It was a water color of his youngest sister. He had such talent.” She held up the picture, which they’d also brought in one of those metal art carriers that looked like a thin briefcase. 

_ For fuck’s sake. _

It was fantastic, but it didn’t change anything. 

“Steve didn’t want me to bring it. He said that you didn’t need to see it. But, I thought if you saw what kind of person he was, that you’d be willing to do what we wanted.” 

“I don’t think that seeing Steve’s paintings will influence Mr. Potter-Black, that’s all Barbara.” He patted her hand as he finished, and she didn’t react to it at all. 

It quickly became obvious that she wasn’t talking to him like a driving force behind a tragic fate. She was talking to him like she expected him to raise him back to his former self, and walk away with her. Isn’t there a story about that in the Christian religion? 

“He was a track star, and on the football team.” She opened the yearbook to appropriate places. 

Stevie Brown was running in shorts with a baton in his hand, head thrown back, and a look of utter concentration on his face. HIs hair was dark and not long. His bangs spilling over his eyes. His eyes were as bright as the mothers. 

“Cathy and Stevie had been dating for almost two years. High school sweethearts, just like Steve and me.” She leaned forward as she said it, her lips half parted, her tongue moistened them as if she was having trouble keeping her mouth from drying out. 

He had to stop this before they got to the baby pictures. He wasn’t trying to be cruel. He wasn’t heartless. He could look into the death, maybe ask around with the police department, and he would if he got the chance. But, he could not raise this boy, and he would not offer sympathies and give them hope that he could be talked into it. 

“Mrs. Brown…” he began over her talk about how vibrant and loving of a child he was. “Mrs. Brown, you don’t need to prove to me that your son was a good kid.” But she barrelled right on causing Harry to lose a small thread on his patience. 

The father looked as though he were about to cry. He was about to rip the photos from her hands, but he wasn’t that heartless. “You’ve told me that it happened on prom night, but you didn’t give me any details.” 

Her eyes flicked right, then left, and she leaned back leaving the album on the desk. Harry didn’t bother to touch it. Her breath came out in a long slow rattle. She swallowed and reached for her husband's hand. He was now standing and trying to coax her to put the album away. She had ignored him. 

“They found Stevie’s car off the road, as if they’d been run into the ditch. The police think they were picked up trying to hitchhike,” said Mr. Brown. 

“Stevie wouldn’t have gotten into a car with strangers,” Barbara said firmly. “And neither would Cathy.” Her eyes were a little less wild. “They were good kids.” 

“I never said they weren’t.” 

“They wouldn’t have gotten in the car with strangers. Stevie was very protective of Cathy. He wouldn’t have done it.” Harry wondered who she was trying to convince. 

“Then did they know the people that gave them a ride?” Harry asked logically. 

It threw her off, as if no one had ever asked her that question. Mr. Brown was stiffening. “No one we know would have harmed Stevie or Cathy.” 

_ Even saints had enemies _ , Harry thought. 

“The police think they might have been forced into another car, maybe with a weapon,” said Steve. 

She was shaking her head over and over. “I can’t bear the thought of someone pointing a gun at them. I just can’t think who would have done such a thing.” 

“Criminals don’t always broadcast their intentions. Real life isn’t a tv show or movie.” Harry calmly stated. “But Mrs. Brown, no matter what you say to me, or anyone else here, none of us will raise your son. Bert has already explained this to you.”

“Why?” She wailed at him. 

The phone rang before Harry could reply. 

“Hello?”

“ _ Do you need an interruption? We can hear her in the lobby!” _

“Thank you, go ahead and send up Mr. Shuyler and Mr. Graison. The Browns are leaving momentarily.” 

“Why won’t you bring my boy back to life?” Mrs. Brown asked as soon as Harry hung up the phone.

_ Back to life? She didn’t want him raised, she wanted him alive. _ “No one can bring him back to life. If your son is raised, he will immediately go and kill whomever killed him.”

“Good! They deserve that for what they did.”

“Not good, Mrs. Brown. That’s murder. Any animator who raises a murdered person will also be charged with murder. Those who pay for it to be done as well.” What Harry wanted to say but couldn’t was that if they were smarter they could have gone through other channels to hire someone to investigate rather than raise. They would get their money’s worth better that way. Hell, if there’d been a name, Harry’d silently take care of it himself. But now there was no way he could touch it without scrutiny. 

“We’ll pay you anything, Mr. Potter-Black, anything.” Mr. Brown stated. “Please help us.”

“It is illegal and no matter how great your son was, I’m not releasing a murder victim to kill their murderer. You need to leave now. I suggest speaking to a therapist. No one will help you.” Harry stood and moved around to the door, expecting them to follow and leave. “I can make an inquiry with the police, and see what they’ve found. But that is all I can offer you.” 

“Please!” Mrs. Brown grabbed a hold of Harry. “Whatever the price. I need my baby.”

“Let me go Mrs. Brown.”

“We can mortgage the house. This is everything in our bank account currently, but we can get more.” Mr. Brown held out a check to Harry with way too many zeroes. “You have no idea what these monsters did to them! They raped both of them, and tore them to pieces, mutilating our son!” 

“Let me go. I will not raise your son for you.” 

“You must!” She pulled on Harry, trying to draw him closer. However, instead of moving him, she scratched bloody lines down his arm to his wrist. 

As the blood bubbled and the scent hit his nose, he let out a low growl. “Release me!”

“Help us!” She cried, reaching one hand forward to fist his shirt near his neck. Harry pulled her hand off of him, twisting it enough to send her to her knees with a shout of pain.

“Let her go!”

“She attacked me first, Mr. Brown. I am a Federal Marshall, and you’re asking me to commit a crime. I let it go when you asked me to perform this illegal act because I know you’re in pain. But my kindness can only go so far, and laying a hand on me is the quickest way for my sincere sympathy to go out the window.”

“Mr. Potter-Black, your next appointment is here.” Mary opened the door. Harry had enough time to see Jason and Nathaniel behind her. In his distraction he didn’t see Mr. Brown pick up the metal art portfolio and raise it above his head. Before anyone could move, Mr. Brown swung it down over top of Harry.

“Let my wife go!”

As the pain seared through his skull, he reacted in the only way he could amongst the shouts. He not only twisted Mrs. Brown’s arm causing her to shriek, he made a pivot, and his hand automatically snapped up and around Mr. Brown’s neck causing the man to let out a holler as his fingers dug into his flesh. Nathaniel rushed to seize the metal folder, yanking it from the man’s grip with a growl. 

“You are out of fucking line,” Harry growled, and when he did the beasts deep inside of him began to stir. It’s anger flexing as it uncoiled as if ready to strike, and for all of a second all he could smell and see was meat right in front of him. He pulled the tall man down to his level, and pierced him with a gaze that froze the man with terror. “I gave you a clear fucking warning, and now all my warnings are expired. I advise you, one last time to get out of my office before I drag you out of here myself. Do you hear me?” He squeezed tighter causing Mr. Brown to cry out. 

“Harry! Harry! Please, let go!” Bert was shouting at him, but Harry didn’t stop until Jason and Nathaniel placed hands on his back to calm him down, and he dropped Mr. Brown causing him to fall to the floor beside his crying wife. 

“Get them out of my fucking sight before I charge them with assaulting a Federal Marshall,” he said as his face went slack and he emptied. His beasts were still there, still purring and growling. He could feel the strength flow through him. It was as if the beast was out there, but he was unchanged. He was still a man, but they were there if Jason and Nathaniel shuddering beside him were anything to go by. 

“Lupa, please pull back, you’re going to force us to change…” Jason hissed pressing his face into the side of Harry’s head. 

“Why? Why won’t you!” She was still wailing, and before security could rush into the room. Harry bent down, and grabbed her by her hair. 

“Be quiet!” he barked causing her to go mute as he sent a flare of his power into her. She might not know why, but she had gone utterly silent. “You lost your son. So you are so willing to risk the innocent lives of everyone else’s son?” 

“Wha-? No! I just want-” 

“That is what you are asking me to do. A murdered zombie will cut a path to it’s target. It won’t care if there’s an innocent in the way. It’ll even kill you, you idiot!” 

“He wouldn’t…” 

“Your son is dead.  _ Dead _ !” Harry shouted causing her to let out a pained squeal. “He is dead. His body is in the ground, and it’s fucking rotting!” 

“No!” 

“Yes.” 

“Harry…” 

“No, she needs the fucking truth! He’s dead, and you are sullying your son’s precious life all to ease your own pain! Yes, what happened to him was fucking terrible, but he is dead. He is at peace. Nothing can hurt him anymore, and I won’t let you hurt him by bringing his image back, you selfish bitch!” He released her right then as two hulking guards came rushing in. 

“Do you want them charged?” asked the taller man. 

Bert let out a noise, but Harry who was now rubbing at the swelling pain in his head, his eyes having gone blurry shook his head. “Just get them out of here. Give them their damn savings back.” 

“But-” 

Harry turned and glared at Bert with enough power that had Jason and Nathaniel almost whimpering as they clung to Harry. Jason sweeping his fingers through Harry’s blood that trailed down his arm into the cuffs. “If money is what you want you greedy bastard, I’ll fucking pay for their time. But give it back to them. All of it! Just get them out of my sight,” he snarled, and Bert actually scampered. 

All he heard after that was a white buzzing sound, it was high and laced with static that zipped and zagged through the room. He did not hear Mary coming over to console and make sure everyone was alright. 

He must have closed his eyes at some point because he was heavily leaning on someone. It was Jason, he smelled of the clean ocean breeze of cologne, and his blood was pumping tastefully within his skin. Harry was suddenly pressed into Jason’s neck beneath his chin, and he was intoxicated. He could smell the musky scent of Jason’s wolf, it was rolling and spiraling, fur rubbed up against him, and he pushed inside to meet the wolf, and he wanted to bite and pull it out. 

“Ms. Mary please leave the room,” Harry heard Jason whisper raggedly. “Nathaniel… take her out of here. Get your wounds cleaned up.” 

Harry snapped around. “Nathaniel…” It was all he heard,  _ Nathaniel hurt _ . He made to remove himself when he was held tighter. “Hurt. You can’t be hurt! Which did it?” He snarled twisting in Jason’s arms to reach for the auburn haired man. 

“It’s okay. I’m fine,” Nathaniel’s bright lilac eyes gave Harry some levity. He cupped Harry’s cheeks, and smiled. “I’m not hurt.” 

“No one hurts you.” 

“I know.” 

“You’re mine.” 

“Yes, Nimir-Ra. I’m yours.” Harry’s beast reached inside of Nathaniel, and rubbed against the sleeping wereleopard making Nathaniel moan as he arched forward into Harry. Jason made a noise, and was suddenly supporting all their weight. 

“What can I do to help?” asked Mary in the distance. 

“Just give us a moment. Harry’s …  _ magic _ is protective and concerned,” said Jason, covering quickly. “It doesn’t like family being hurt. He doesn’t care about himself more than he does others. He’ll make sure Nathaniel isn’t hurt, and he won’t be satisfied until he does.” 

Mary drew herself up. “Okay. I’ll leave you be. But you better come out to let me doctor you up. I’ll make sure the Browns are gone and cancel all appointments.” She smiled and reached over to touch Harry. He let her, but he paid her no mind. 

Harry could hear both of their hearts beating, the blood that worked through their systems, and the beasts that lay within them. “So beautiful. But I cannot eat you,” he told Nathaniel. 

“I don’t mind.” 

“I do. You’re precious. You’re my leopard.” He curved around Nathaniel and gave him a soft chaste kiss, and stroked the man’s delicately beautiful face. 

“He healed your wounds,” said Jason leaning around Harry. “I’ve seen this before, wolves and leopards are similar in the sense that when they claim a child, they will not lay with them.” 

“I’m not a child,” Nathaniel sulked, but his eyes did glimmer, as though he understood and was happy. 

Jason chuckled. “No, you’re not. But to his Nimir-Ra, you are. He’s claimed you as his kitten, you cannot be food, Nathaniel. He will not drain your body for his own needs. He’d drain himself first.”

“Then I can’t help? I want to help…” 

“You’ve helped him by being happy,” said Jason. “It’s what we’ve been trying to tell you this whole time, especially me. We have never known anything but Raina and Gabriel, Nathaniel. They made us think our bodies were our only worth. I got lucky with Jean-Claude. It was the only good thing Richard ever did before he tried to take it back.” 

Nathaniel took in a breath as Harry rolled his beast through both of them, and very different sensations caught them. Nathaniel staggered, and he snuggled into Harry. Harry was aware of the sandwich he was in, and he clutched at Nathaniel, tugging his braid and pressing soft kisses from his cheek to his neck. 

“I’m not even positive I would be enough,” said Jason when Harry turned in his arms and began to push into him. He ran his fingers through Harry’s wild hair, and gripped it. Harry groaned and began to lick at the pulse in his throat. “But I don’t mind trying!” 

“You think we can get him out of the building? How’s his head?” asked Nathaniel. “You know. If we got him to the club. He could probably release it all, and feed on the crowd remotely.” 

Harry moaned as his body became overly charged much like a livewire. His beasts wanted out, wanted to break out of him to tear and rend. It wanted to consume as he seized Jason and sucked him down. When his shirt got in the way, Harry shredded it making Jason groan when their hips were rolled. 

“I don’t think that’s an option right now,” Jason moaned. “Fuck. Just his touch is trying to make me release. At this point I’m not going to last.”

“Does he know what he’s doing? He’s not going to like that, maybe you should stop. I’ll try to call the house and get someone.” It was as if he managed to get beneath Jason’s skin, and set fire inside of him. 

Harry could barely comprehend what was going on in the distance, all he could see was the flesh in front of him, the blood. He wanted to run free and be caught. It was like needles piercing his skin, and his back arched as he covered Jason’s mouth and kissed him heavily. He left the younger wolf panting and shaking. 

Harry dragged himself to the floor onto his knees. He pulled Jason out of his jeans with strong fluid movements, and he swallowed the throbbing hot cock, engorging himself on it and taking it all the way down. 

“Fuck….!” Jason writhed against the desk, pushing his hips into Harry’s mouth. “I can’t control it…!” It was like a never-ending orgasm without the actual release. Harry sucked and slurped, devouring the skin, and drinking him down. 

Nathaniel whimpered, and crawled over the desk to watch. “Someone is coming…” he breathed, reaching out to stroke Harry's burning neck. 

“G-good because I’m not enough, I know I’m not enough. But fuck I’d like to be, ngh!” 

Hot salty cum poured out of Jason and into Harry’s mouth only to remain hard and standing as he never stopped sucking. He drew out Jason’s orgasm forcing it to slow and stop, slow and stop. He lost his sense of vision, his body coiled and ready. So hot, and it needed… it needed. 

When two beasts wanted to fuck, the stopping point was always marked by the stronger of the two, and soon Harry and Jason were on the floor. Nathaniel working their clothes as Harry’s magic reacted to his needs. 

Jason ground his hips into Harry, shifting them so that he could be on top. His jeans were peeled away by Nathaniel, and Harry let out a cry when his hair was fisted and pulled, Jason slowly sinking inside of him. He was way too tight, but he was soaked, his magic having prepared him. Jason raised up, used one strong hand to flip Harry onto his stomach. “Knees.” 

Harry shimmied onto his knees, his body open and offering. He cried out when Jason forced the head of his cock into Harry’s tight opening. It gave way, letting Jason go deeper inside. 

“Fuck… fuck me!” Jason gripped tight on Harry’s hair and rolled his hips to the point that Harry felt as if Jason was rolling inside of him, brushing all the nerves and the needs, and the pain was overtaken as Nathaniel fell to the floor in front of him. 

He didn’t want to do Nathaniel, but he could love him, and so he accepted Nathaniel’s mouth as Jason worked himself inside. Harry worked his own hips, dancing in time to Jason’s as he lapped at Nathaniel’s mouth. The wereleopard pulled himself out and stroked his own cock. 

Nathaniel was too close to his child to devour, but all cats needed petting and attention, they needed love and affection, and so Harry pushed his beast as there was plenty to go around. 

Both of them rolled on the floor, Harry got on his back and Jason dived inside of him. Nathaniel pulled away to watch, stretched on the floor to watch hungrily. 

Harry at one point tried to resist the power only for it to overflow, surge through him, and forced Jason to react. His vigorous fluid movements saw both of them releasing, and still being overcharged. Harry was at one point like a vibrating battery, and Jason couldn’t give him enough juice. His beast was too much, too strong, and it rubbed into him. 

Neither of them could stop and Harry knew he couldn’t keep this up. He couldn’t hurt Jason. He whined as he seized Jason’s neck, and pulled his shiny face to him and licked at the salt sweat left behind. “That’s enough,” Harry panted. 

“But…” 

“No.” He could feel Jason’s heart. It was thumping fast and hard, his blood pressure soaring, and his body begging for more. “Rest.” Before Harry devoured Jason. He smelled too fucking good. 

“Yes, Lupa,” Jason whined with a lick back of submission. “Can I have Nathaniel?” 

“Yes. But I will not drain you. You’re my best friend. I will not.” Harry kissed him lovingly.

His beast tried very hard to fight the human side of him, but he pushed it down. He would not fuck his boys to death. He was not going to be greedy. He would get control of this and his beast. 

It was roaring within him, like some great creature made up of multiple beasts. He argued with his beasts internally. Nathaniel needed attention, and Harry could not give it to him, but Jason was more than willing as he rolled nakedly, the sweat slick and slipping on his skin. Harry used the carpet to absorb his sweat as he lay there to watch Nathaniel’s beautiful body. He pleaded as Jason mounted and dominated him hard; in a way that he just couldn’t dominate Harry. 

Jason was wonderful in bed, not to mention how beautiful he was, but Harry’s beasts wanted more than Jason could give. Nathaniel was lower in the structure even with cross-species, and so it was a perfect match. 

He went into a daze as he watched them. It was like a dance on stage. He began to wonder if this was Raina and Gabriel’s problem? They kept taking more and more than any of the other weres could give. Raina and Gabriel seemed to like the submissives, liked draining, and breaking them. Liked being selfish, all the while pretending they were giving. 

All of Harry’s beasts were snarling at the mere thought, and he lowered himself to watch through crystal clear vision. His ardeur was not raised, but his beasts were. What did this mean? Did it mean the ardeur was under control and working through his beasts? 

Did it really matter?

Harry felt the energy before he heard him, that steady rolling earth, the leopard padding towards him, and he raised his head when Micah slipped through the office door. “Nimir-Ra.” 

“Nimir-Raj,” Harry purred, and rolled instinctively onto his back. 

“Looking lovely there,” said Micah, letting his eyes fall on Nathaniel and Jason. “You are not included?” 

“Can’t eat the kitty, and they’re too beautiful to add me into the mix,” Harry hummed. “So I’m watching. It’s not my ardeur. It hasn’t raised at all today. My beasts came out… I was attacked, and now I need...”

“You need me.” 

“His heart was tempting. I wanted to lick it,” Harry moaned with a shake of his head. “Can’t.” Micah’s energy pushed into Harry and it was like velvet as he raised up when the beautiful man came over to stand in front of him. He ran his hand up and down Micah’s pant leg. “I don’t want them, Nimir-Raj. I want one of us.” 

“Of course,” Micah grinned as he reached down and pulled Harry by the back of his hair. “Let’s get you off the floor.” His kisses were hot, and satisfying in the way that Jason just couldn’t be. His beast answered Micah’s as he was laid across his own desk. Micah licked at the salt, the sweat, the taste of Jason and Harry mixed on his body. “Sorry I’m late.” 

“Hngh.” Harry ran his hands along Micah’s back as he was licked, his beasts wanted blood but he pulled back enough to dig in but not scratch.

“I’m sorry we are never here when we’re needed,” Micah lamented as he crawled over Harry’s soft naked body., The magic in the room had melted his clothes and he pressed more and more kisses to Harry’s burning skin as magic slicked them both. His leopard crawling over Harry’s own as if he was going to fuck her as Micah fucked him.

Harry folded his fingers into Micah’s hair, and arched himself eagerly. Harry wanted to urge him faster, but Micah would not be detoured on his apologetic ministrations. He was feeling frantic, and full of need. Micah teased him as he slipped between Harry’s eagerly spread legs. He reached down and leveled his large cock, and he pushed; his leopard following suit. Harry cried out, digging his nails into Micah’s shoulders. His teeth clenching. His mind blanking as Micah went deeper and deeper until there was no way he could go further. Nearly every inch had been buried. 

Micah’s leopard eyes dilated. “You’re burning up. Fuck…” he breathed sliding his palm up Harry’s flat stomach to curve around his hip. 

“Fuck me… please.” 

“Yes, Nimir-Ra.” Micah and Harry began to move together, Micah shoving as hard and fast and deep as he could while Harry pushed his feet flat against the desk and pulled. Micah and his men always knew what he wanted, and the warm circular thrusts intensified against his sensitivity.

He worked Harry to orgasm and brought him back down only to raise his beast, and they circled each other. In and out, in and out. Micah covering him, wrapped around him, their skin to skin contact not helping the scorch. Harry sank his mouth into Micah’s neck, and he enjoyed the warm moan as he sucked and tore at Micah until the crimson spilled. 

“Fuck… ahh…!” Micah clutched Harry, encouraging him to dig in and bite more. He was scratching down Harry’s back, and he began to bite back. Being near the same height allowed them the perfect angle to devour each other. He rocked into Harry as they gave into their beastial needs. Their pleasure heightened by their beasts’ metaphysical sex matching their physical one.

Micah had once expressed disappointment that he could not put himself all the way into someone without hurting them, but Harry had no problems taking all of him; and begging for more. He opened more and more letting Micah consume him. 

More and more pressure built through Harry’s body, and he could feel Micah’s building, never stopping, never tiring, and both of them exploded in a shower of orgasms that vibrated every part of them. Harry’s leopardess crawled out from under Micah’s, rubbed her velvet fur into his, and tried to climb inside of him to lick and taste at the flowing blood and heart so close to him. 

Micah let out a noise, clutching Harry. “Nimir-Ra…” 

“Sorry…” 

“No. Do it again,” Micah ordered, and Harry nuzzled into his chin as he rubbed up against Micah again sending him bucking into Harry, and pinning him down. He hissed pleasurably, and ran a tongue across Harry’s cheek. “Yes, like that.”

Harry felt Micah’s beast purring with such content like it had never felt before. He pushed into it again until Harry was consumed by something warm and intoxicating. He was sent over the edge as the buzz in the room pulsed and expanded. He could taste Micah’s blood, his heart. Even though he didn’t really bite into it. He could taste it. He tasted Micah, and Micah was his and he was Micah’s. Harry had always known that Micah was his Alpha, his Nimir-Raj, but he hadn’t understood what that meant. He hadn’t really grasped the concept in the metaphysical sense. He hadn’t realized that Micah’s beast had been hurting and bruised this whole time because Harry hadn’t understood, couldn’t respond the way that was so natural. He may have been copying the movements, but he hadn’t fully grasped it. Until now. 

It made their conversation in Philly that much more important, Micah’s confession that he was no longer King. But, Micah was wrong, and now Micah would know he was wrong. He was the only king for Harry. He pushed into Micah’s neck and clasped his mouth around the bleeding wound Harry had left on his throat, he sucked the tangy liquid, and in return he pushed his own magic and energy into Micah. 

Jason and Nathaniel let out noises, and Micah took in a shuddering breath. “Come over here,” he ordered them, and both Jason and Nathaniel started transforming as the magic unleashed around the room. They did not transform into half-forms, and it was such a fast transformation that their skin didn’t have time to be uncomfortable or split apart. 

A gray wolf and soft black and auburn haired leopard stood in their place. Micah rolled them onto the floor and expertly shifted himself in the process. Harry moaned as the soft cock inside him expanded further. Jason and Nathaniel began to lick them both to clean them of blood and sweat, and Micah began to purr as he slipped out of Harry. Harry’s magic took it upon itself to shift him into his animagus form. 

Harry, who was by far the smallest, was tucked into Micah’s side both physically and metaphysically. Nathaniel and Jason settled around them in one large pile on the floor. It was weird, he could feel the beasts, feel his own, use its power, and yet at the same time he couldn’t really transform. How was that possible? How did his beasts seem to register as more female than male? What did that mean? Harry was male! All male. So he didn’t quite understand anything. He had a feeling no one could understand. 

Merlin, he hoped no one came in, talk about awkward.


	8. Chapter Eight

Harry loved his magic sometimes. He wasn’t surprised to find that his magic often bent to his will even when he didn’t know. He hadn’t put any silencers around his office. Edward had forbidden him from doing it in case of an emergency. He could be attacked and no one could hear him or any number of things. 

Even with shifting, everyone was a bit of a mess, most of the wounds had healed on their bodies, but Micah was sporting one hell of a raw hickey. He seemed very proud of himself, Harry could feel his preening beast. 

Harry had marked him before, but it had been more as a human marking than his beast marking. Not that Harry really understood. For fuck’s sake, he understood nothing, and yet he was always doing things he didn’t understand. But, Micah was  _ delighted _ . His beast was still purring even after shifting back. Nathaniel was curled up around Jason in the corner by the window on the floor. Harry had conjured some pillows for comfort. 

Nathaniel looked so peaceful, and Jason looked happy. So happy, and he knew it wasn’t the sex. It was like something had hit them all. He wondered what? It was like Jason had come to a realization of something that he’d been missing this whole time. 

Harry, now that he was no longer full of sexual adrenaline and cocks every which way while all the while fighting his bloodlust, was now rubbing the top of his head. It still throbbed. He was going to guess that he had been given a small hairline fracture or something like that. “That bastard!” 

“Are you okay, Lupa?” Jason asked with a frown. 

Micah came over, and cradled his face. “What happened? I could feel you got hurt.” He lowered Harry’s head and pressed a kiss to the top of his skull, and smiled at his soft hair tickling at his chin. 

“He got attacked by that,” Nathaniel pointed to the large metal folder. 

“How?” Micah asked coolly. Harry explained what had happened leaving Micah growling lowly. “You want me to have words?” 

“No, they’re in pain, and I recognize that. If there’s anyone I’d like to rip apart it’s fucking Bert,” he grumbled. 

“I can arrange that, if my Nimir-Ra has been insulted,” said Micah in a clear cut voice that almost sounded like Edward. 

“Better not,” Harry grumbled. But, the offer was nice. 

“We’re sorry, we weren’t fast enough,” said Jason. 

“It’s not your fault, Jason. Either of you,” said Harry. “Let me get dressed, and make sure all is well. Mary’s too good of a person to leave out there worrying over us.” 

He conjured a mirror, and almost squawked at how red his face happened to be. His eyes were so bright that they could glow in the dark, and his hair looked almost longer. At least an inch or two. Harry noticed the natural human canines on each side of his mouth had actually elongated just slightly making them look like veneers. His chin was slightly rounder, he noticed. 

“Do I look different?” Harry asked, perplexed. 

“You’re my Nimir-Ra,” said Micah coming up behind him and looping an arm around his neck. 

“But, look at my teeth.” He showed them. “My eyes are also brighter if that were possible.” 

Micah grinned. “Huh, I wonder if this is a way for your beast to come out? To present itself.” He touched the points lovingly. “I think they’re pretty.” 

Harry bit his finger playfully. “You know I don’t understand anything, right?” 

“That’s what makes you so cute.” 

“Shut up!” Harry elbowed him. 

“Come on, Nimir-Ra, let’s dress you.” 

Micah dressed him, and he didn’t fight it as Nathaniel and Jason grumbled while pulling their own clothes on. Snuggling in an office building was never the brightest idea. If only they were all at home and in a bed. 

Once Harry was as appropriate as he could get, and some of the blood had left the pockets of his cheek he headed out of the office, and down the flight of steps. Micah right behind him. Harry licked the edge of his lips aware of the taste of Micah still lingering even after the physical evidence was gone. He looked down at his arms where Barbara Brown had sliced him with her nails. It still hurt, but they were healing with dried flecks of blood. 

Mary looked up at them from her position behind the desk. “That woman and man are still in with Bert. They wouldn’t leave without their son’s things.” She looked pissed. “I cannot believe they abused you like that.” 

“I’m fine,” said Harry. 

“I saw that Nathaniel cut his hand. Does he need some assistance?” asked Mary in concern. 

“Jason has him,” said Harry. “But thank you.” 

Mary turned to Harry and touched his cheek gently. She was shaking her head. “I wanted to call the police on them. It’s enough to file assault charges.” She then took his arm. “Look at these scratches, what was she thinking? Micah, be a dear and get me the first aid kit under my desk.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” said Micah smiling at her. 

“You don’t have to, Mary-” 

“Now you be quiet, Harry,” Mary tittered like a mother, and Harry dutifully went quiet. She reminded him suddenly of Madam Pomfrey, and that was one woman no one crossed. Harry had even seen her manhandle Dumbledore a time or two. “Did you get hurt too?” 

“No, ma’am. Just a hickey,” Micah said proudly. 

“I see, well then. I’ll leave it.” She winked with a smile, and dabbed some alcohol onto a cotton swab, and Harry let her doctor him. 

“I’m not going to press charges.” Now that he was calm, and no longer full of an intense amount of anger. Harry admitted to feeling horrible for the couple who lost their kid. Bert had wound him up before the meeting, which hadn’t helped because Harry didn’t like being taken advantage of. Bert had tried to tug on his heart-strings. He must have figured that Harry had a kid and because of that he would understand and even if it was illegal, he’d risk the lives of innocents to bring a murdered kid back. 

Arsehole! 

He also knew that some of his anger was not all his, and it wasn’t all directed at Bert. Harry had come to a realization that he and his men needed to sit down and have a chat. A really big and long chat that might make Harry cringe, but they needed to. 

Jason and Nathaniel came downstairs after them, and Mary made a beeline for Nathaniel to take his hand. “It’s still cut. Micah get me the gauze,” she ordered. 

“Ma’am, uhm I-” 

“I know, you’re a shifter. It’s not like you’re contagious in human form my dear. Sheesh, everyone thinks it's really that easy. If it was we’d all be one,” she waved his worries about her off. 

“You should have gloves,” he said gently to the woman. 

“Nonsense!” Micah handed her the alcohol and swabs. 

“He doesn’t heal as fast as most shifters,” Jason explained. “He’s still young.” 

“Course he is.” 

“How did you get hurt?” Harry asked, still wanting to know the question. 

“When I yanked the folder away, the metal edge went into my skin,” Nathaniel told him.

Harry was relieved that Mr. Brown didn’t touch Nathaniel, otherwise he might very well press charges if only to make a point. 

Micah had his arms wrapped around Harry and was cuddling him to his chest when Bert’s office door opened. His face was very solemn, though there was something in his eyes, some flicker, that Harry most definitely didn’t trust. It wasn’t suppressed laughter, but close. 

Micah let out a low growl, and quickly stepped in front of Harry when he smelled Mr. Brown without having to see him. He could likely smell the fear and the emotions, the draining anger. He shielded Harry making Bert’s eyes widen slightly as Micah dragged down his sunglasses. 

“You have something to say?” Micah asked coolly. 

Bert fumbled for a moment, and Mr. Brown just stared into Micah’s leopard eyes. “H-Harry do you want to press assault charges on the Browns?” He said it straight-faced, in a serious voice. Over the years, Bert had spent a great deal of effort making Harry take all kinds of rubbish from clients and never before suggested pressing charges. 

And from the look on Micah’s still face, Harry knew that he was in full acting mode. A farce.

“Let me think about it,” he said instead, and the barely contained amusement of his play dropped Bert’s holier than thou attitude. Of course, he wasn’t going to press charges, but Bert didn’t need to know that. 

Steve Brown had his arm around his wife, her eyes were wide with rings of red. She was cradling her own arm that Harry had used to subdue her. “We are so sorry, Mr. Potter-Black. Really, I don’t know what came over us. It was… inexcusable.” 

“Please don’t press charges, please!” Mrs. Brown softly cried. Most of her makeup had smeared across her face, and it made the age lines that much more prominent. She looked frail and feeble. If Harry ended up pressing charges he knew the whole incident would be explained in court which would see the Browns potentially in jail for attempted murder. 

“Just get your things and get out of this building,” Harry hissed, the way they bounced from desperate to pitiful raised his beasts’ hackles.  _ Weak _ . “Bert, make sure you refund their money.” 

Bert’s face caved from behind. He wasn’t happy that Harry refused to play his game. “Of course. Mary, can you?” 

Micah kept his eyes on the Browns as they skirted around them, Mary smiled coolly and snapped closed the first aid kit. “Right this way,” she said professionally. There was a reason that she worked for Animators Inc, she was good at what she did. Maybe Harry should look into making sure she and Craig, their night time receptionist, received nice raises this year. 

But it wasn’t Mary’s cool professionalism that had the Browns and Bert weary, it was Micah and the way he was looking at them. Harry could feel his energy slowly creeping on them causing the small hairs to stand on end. Both of them shivered, and ducked their heads in natural submission. Once the Browns were out of sight, Micah snapped back around to Bert who had stepped closer to Harry. 

“What are you planning, Bert?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said with an innocent blank face. He had such a false sincerity about him that was still in place even after the Browns had disappeared through the door. Harry gave him a deadpan look, Bert was always planning something. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he repeated getting a bit more nervous. “You’re not really going to charge them, are you?” He looked uneasy. 

“Maybe. It’s for me to decide after all.”

“The company could, since they were on company grounds.”

“Not without my permission it can’t.” 

“Harry, can’t we just-” he reached for Harry as if to try and get him alone, but Micah let out a growl and blocked the move with his wrist coming down. Bert jerked his hand back. 

“Don’t touch him,” said Micah clearly. 

“Just go with me on it!” Bert said desperately, keeping his hands away and trying to avoid Micah’s stare. 

“Go with you on what? Did you threaten to call the cops on them so they’d pay up? I told you to give them their check back. I don’t want anything to do with it.” 

“But…” 

“No!” 

“They’re coming back. Please be good…” He flinched again when Micah moved to block Harry completely. “It’s for the good of the company!” 

The elevator dinged, and Mary stepped out with the two following behind. Mrs. Brown was clutching the metal folder that had been used to bop him. 

“Is he going to press charges?” asked Mrs. Brown fearfully. 

“He needs a little persuasion to agree to our deal.” 

“Oh, please, Mr. Potter-Black, please! We are so sorry. I don’t want it in the papers that I’m crazy. Our daughters have seen enough bad publicity about us. Please don’t press charges or put anything in the papers!” 

Harry wanted to remind them that they were the ones who made their choice, they were the ones who decided that they could talk a legitimate company into committing illegal acts. He wanted to tell them that there were other ways of seeing this done. A way that didn’t involve paper trails! But they ruined any interest Harry had in helping them when they refused to listen and attacked him. 

Bert bravely tried to seize him again, but Micah cleared his throat, and then turned to the Browns. “Just go. You won’t be charged if you leave now.” 

“Really?” Mr. Brown made to reach for Harry only for Micah to snarl. He drew away. “We’re really sorry.” 

As both of them left, Bert’s shoulders slumped. “They offered ten grand.” 

“As if that’s worth trying to beat the shit out of me?” Harry scowled. “Do we Animators mean that little to you Bert? That you would put a dollar amount on our safety? I don’t want their money. Not to mention that’s illegal, taking money not to press charges.” 

“I didn’t outright say that that was what the money was for. Hinted at it, maybe, but I know better than to say something specifically. Give me a little credit.” 

“You’re fucking joking? You’re using these people’s suffering for money?” Micah asked in disgust. 

“I’m punishing them, wouldn’t you see it like that?” 

“What about you? Who is going to punish you?” Micah asked slowly and deliberately, making Bert withdraw. 

“Me?”

“Yes, for not managing client expectations and allowing an employee to be put into a situation where they were attacked.” Micah responded. 

He tried to ignore Micah. “Can’t you just look into it? It’s a retainer, Harry.” 

“I can’t raise their son, Bert, or his girlfriend!” Harry all but snarled. How many times did he have to say that? 

“Can you at least talk to the detective in charge of their case?” 

“So you can keep the money?” 

“I was thinking more that you might offer your expertise to the police.” 

“I’m not a specialist in normal human murders, Bert. I’m preternatural!” 

“Does a serial killer count?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Their son and his date were the first, but not the last. He killed a couple the year after.” 

“What makes you so sure it was the same person?” 

He shrugged. “You’d need to talk to the police on the case, and for that you’ll need the permission of the parents, since as you pointed out it’s not a crime that you have jurisdiction over.” 

Harry growled. “I won’t let anyone cheat them out of money over their pain, Bert! This company makes more than enough without cheating people out of thousands of fucking dollars! It makes me wonder with the way you cash in on the pain of others that maybe we should audit the books. If you pull this shit again I’ll start a vote to kick your arse out of here! You don’t know shit about raising the dead or crime or vampires. You’re the money man, but you’re not the only money man in the world!” 

“Harry… you don’t mean that,” he spluttered aghast. 

Harry glowered at him. “I don’t want to mean it! But this has to stop! I said I’d pay their fee out of my own pocket for this session so no one is losing. But I won’t let them be extorted.” 

“But they hurt you!” 

“Yes, they hurt me, and a single threat to ruin their livelihood will likely stop them from going to someone who will do what they want! It was more of a fair punishment, but they are in pain, and I can at least recognize that. I’ve been there. When my godfather was killed I destroyed my Headmaster’s entire office, and if I could have I’d have tried to scratch his eyes out too. You handle each issue individually and teach them, not extort them. You don’t take advantage of them, this is the last warning. Do not take advantage of anyone again that walks through our door! There is no three strike rule, one warning!” 

“If you need, I can cancel the rest of your appointments, Harry,” said Mary. 

Harry rubbed his forehead. “No. I’m already making Bert give back his money. I might as well take them,” he grumbled. “But my boys are staying with me in the office this time. No arguments.” 

“I don’t think Bert will be arguing anything anymore,” said Micah grumpily. 

Micah seemed more offended than usual, and Harry wondered if it had something to do with their beasts. Merlin, they really needed to sit and talk about things. Harry was sick and tired of not understanding anything going on and just going with it. 

The rest of Harry’s afternoon appointments were a far cry better compared to the Browns. Mostly because Harry knew what he was expecting, and most of them were lawyers. Nathaniel, Jason, and Micah sat in the corner near the windowsill. Harry had extended one of the client chairs to fit perfectly against the sill. 

No one argued with his decision this time, Bert had rushed back into his office with his tail between his legs, and Mary was giving all the others a heads up so that Harry wasn’t blamed for costing them money. 

The meeting participants had objected to his three men, but Harry had told them legally the conversation wasn’t privileged and since some clients could get physical that he was afforded some extra protection. Most didn’t look at the pretty lovely boys in the corner as much protection, but Harry would take them over a gang of bikers any day. 

Legally, Harry had every right, and most lawyers tended to hate it when he was right. It was like the average citizen wasn’t supposed to be able to know the law. Harry told the first one that if they wanted the meeting to deal with it, if not to go away. He let it go, and the second one didn’t let it go even at the mention of protection.

When the lawyer challenged what three smallish men could do, Micah said not a word as he took the tall stainless steel lamp in the corner and bent it into a pretzel without flinching causing the lawyer to lose all color in his face. Micah then placed the lamp back in it’s spot, but kept it twisted so that each appointment Harry didn’t have to repeat himself so much. 

Most clients never stayed longer than ten to fifteen minutes, and they came and went. Some in groups, and all of them had some remark about his men. He could have placed them under disillusionment, but why bother? They had a right to be here. Harry owned the building after all. 

It was seven o’ clock by the time they were through, and to his surprise Bert had passed his 7:30 cemetery appointment onto Manny without Harry having to ask. He even apologized.

“He’s trying to save his ass,” said Jason, slipping into the backseat with Nathaniel. 

Micah scowled. “You should throw him out, and then let someone eat him.” 

Harry snickered. “You really want to give them indigestion?” 

“I don’t want to hack up a hairball, but I’d eat him if you let me,” said Jason.

“Have you ate?” asked Micah, who had taken the keys from Nathaniel. 

“We ate a lot,” said Nathaniel grinning. “Good thing I stuck to lean steak and salad or I’m in trouble, Jean-Claude would kill us for overeating.” 

“Also be kind of embarrassing. All that salt will make us bloat.” 

Harry snickered. “You boys are perfect. Stop having body image issues.” 

“Not issues, Nimir-Ra. Just a fact. It’s kind of embarrassing feeling like a water tank on stage,” said Nathaniel. 

Harry huffed at him. “You guys are perfect,” he repeated. 

“Why don’t you dance with us sometime?” Jason teased. 

“Nope!” 

“Why not?” 

“Nope.” 

Micah grinned. “One of these days maybe.” 

“When hell freezes over.” 

“That can be arranged.” 

“You’d do it if Edward told you to.” 

Harry scowled. “Don’t do that to me!” 

“Nimir-Ra can say no to anyone but the Gardien. I wonder why?” Nathaniel hummed. 

“I’ve said no to Edward!” Harry huffed with a cross of his arms. 

“Name the last time you said no to him,” Micah challenged. 

Harry racked his brain to try and think of the last time. “I don’t remember. But I know I have.” 

“Have you ever fought?” asked Nathaniel. 

“Once.” 

“Once since you’ve known him?” Jason whistled. “Wow.” 

“Not to mean we haven’t squabbled.” 

“I don’t think I’d want to fight with the Gardien,” Nathaniel confessed, shivering. 

“He’s reasonable.” Jason and Nathaniel laughed as though Harry was joking. 

Micah was grinning. “Yeah, so reasonable he shoots first.” 

“Yeah, and you see that shot right?” Harry smiled. “If he was serious, you wouldn’t have seen it. So I call that quite reasonable.” 

“True.” 

“How many bullets have you dug out of your ass now?” Jason asked grinning at Micah. 

“Lost count…” Micah grumbled though he had a real smile on his face as Harry curled up on the seat and rested his head on Micah’s shoulder. 

“You dug them out? I think it was me digging them out,” said Harry letting Micah’s scent wash over him as an arm was wrapped around him. He was feeling quite fluffy right now. Strange. “Where are you boys going?” 

“Guilty Pleasures.” 

Harry turned his face into Micah without responding. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to see Jean-Claude yet. 

Micah frowned when he felt Harry tensing, but didn’t ask with Jason and Nathaniel in the car. Harry felt something trickle over their connection, but he kept it blocked off. “Baby, why are you shielding so hard?” he asked softly. 

“Tell you later,” Harry mumbled, and just like that the carefree feeling he’d had evaporated leaving him all sorts of confused, and troubled. “Are the hyenas okay?” 

“Yep. By the time we got there, they were getting the paperwork filed to put them in a facility. Hermione was brilliant. We didn’t even need our lawyer. She’s filing charges on their behalf, and by the time she was done everyone was cowed.” 

“That’s Hermione for you.” 

“We got them back to Narcissus.” 

Narcissus had become very happy with Harry and them over the months. He had managed to give birth. It’d been a premature birth at the seven month mark, but it had been successful. He was currently blissfully happy in babyland. It was now giving hope to all the other lycanthrope hopefuls out there to being able to give birth safely. Narcissus was a hermaphrodite, the werehyenas were entirely matriarchal, and Narcissus was the only actual female of the clan. At least biologically, but he identified as entirely male. It didn’t matter to him where the baby came from or who it came from, and Harry respected that about Narcissus. If only others could follow his example, and they said lycanthropes were dangerous? They’ve never seen a lycanthrope hug their baby. 

Riverfront was full to bursting, and they had to move slow over the quaint cobblestone streets. The fountain square park in the center was towering tall and spilling sparkling water that alternated various colors of the rainbow. Every age-old building face and one factory shined with an aged beauty that complimented it. Glowing neon signs lit the streets more than the old fashioned black oil street lamps making it look like something out of a novel. Harry, Draco, and Hermione had charmed them especially.

On each side of the district were two large buildings of paid for parking, otherwise there was no parking near The Landing area of the district where Guilty Pleasures and many other hot-spots resided nestled beside one another. 

Micah went ahead and parked at the Circus because there was no employee parking yet, they were working on getting the rights to the building behind it in hopes of knocking it down. It was useless, and only taking up space. Harry and Jean-Claude didn’t own that building, and they couldn’t find a record on who owned it anywhere. Hermione and Draco were digging into that, and coming up dry. It wasn’t unusual, it was the same thing that Jean-Claude ran into before he met Harry. 

They turned down several alleyways passing by a lot of adults out for a night on the town. Most were in their best party clothes, which often consisted of being half-naked in heels or in boots. Even the men walked around shirtless and some even had booty shorts to show an emphasis on their very strong legs and thighs. It was not uncommon to see dark corners occupied. There was no prostitution, Jean-Claude had put a harsh crack down on that. But a couple hooking up in a corner was a different story. 

Everyone was ready for fun. It was Saturday night and what happened in the Riverfront often stayed in the Riverfront when it came to the humans seeking fun and pleasure. It was far and away from the likes of Tenderloin, and honestly more safe than downtown St. Louis where only humans spent their time. Plain clothes security walked up and down the streets. Most were wolves and rats with only a low level vampire or two, and so it was kind of hard to walk down the street without one of the wolves stopping to greet Harry, and a few of the rats as well. 

Most hugged him or kissed him below the ear, and a lot of them were constantly either thanking him or asking if he was lonely without the Ulfric in town. Micah would twitch at this, but didn’t bar their way.  _ It was sometimes hard to be everything to everybody, _ Harry thought, and that only emphasized his need to speak to his men, the core of them, and soon.

Harry just finished being greeted by Graham, who was on his way to his shift at Guilty Pleasures, when Graham jerked back. “We’ve told him not here. Excuse me Lupa I need to send this boy back to the Tenderloin.” 

“Huh?” Harry turned with Micah to see what Graham was talking about. On the corner they could see a man in leather shorts, leather boots, and ribbed tank. He was leaning against a streetlight talking to someone. They could tell the moment the guy noticed Graham headed his way as he seemed to try and hurry the conversation. 

“How many times do we have to tell you! Not in the Riverfront!” Graham yelled out. 

“Need someone with a badge to step in?” Harry looked over his shoulder to see Zebrowski standing there in plain clothing. A blue t-shirt and a pair of jeans that were far more relaxed than most people wore. 

“Unusual to see you here.” Micah looked over as well. 

“Zeze!” Jason thumped the Sergeant on the back. He had playfully adopted Harry’s moniker. Zerbrowski didn’t mind. 

“Graham’s got it. He’s a bouncer at Guilty Pleasure and has experience patrolling the Riverfront.” Nathaniel smiled. 

“Patrolling?”

“Yah, all the club bouncers take turns patrolling and making sure nothing happens here.” Nathaniel pointed out a few others walking about. “Makes this a safe and legal district.” 

“All the bouncers are supernatural, aren’t they?” Zebrowski asked looking over who was pointed out to him. 

“Best placed to stop an issue whether it’s supernatural or human.” Jason shrugged. “It’s a requirement to work for the Master. You have to do your part in keeping the area safe for everyone.”

“What brings you down here tonight, Zeze?” Harry asked as Micah wrapped an arm around his waist. 

“Thought I’d wander around and get a better understanding of the community you’re so involved in and protective of. Nothing will ever change unless we put ourselves in a situation to learn. Right?” 

“Smart man.” Micah purred. “Want a friendly experience?”

“Uh...ok?” 

“Jason.”

With a grin, Jason turned to stand in front of Zebrowski. “This is how a wolf shows deference to someone dominate to them in pack hierarchy.” 

“Alright…” Zebrowski sounded unsure, eyes flicking between Jason, Nathaniel, Harry, and Micah. Jason stepped forward, placed a hand on Zebrowski’s chest, and ran his tongue across Zebrowski’s lower lip. He then tilted his head into Zebrowski’s neck.

“If you accept, you brush your nose against the back of his ear.” Harry explained at Zebrowski’s poleaxed expression. After a moment they watched as the man bent his head and did exactly that. 

“That doesn’t count as a kiss does it? Cause Katie might kill me if it did.”

“You’re safe, Zeze. It’s a normal greeting, promise.” Jason smiled. “Doesn’t mean that wasn’t fun.”

“Are you flirting with me?” Zerbrowski asked, adjusting his glasses. 

“Maybe. You’re kind of cute. I’d do you!” Jason stepped back and looked him up and down. 

“Katie wouldn’t approve or would she? Who knows with her at times,” Zerbrowski chuckled. 

“Welcome to the world of supernatural, Zeze.” Harry laughed. 

“Where you boys headed tonight?” 

“Jason and Nathaniel are working at Guilty Pleasures tonight, Micah and I are dropping them off.” Harry explained. 

“If you’re here to learn, why not get the full experience?” Nathaniel asked politely. Harry had to try really hard not to burst out laughing. A devil disguised as an angel tempting an officer of the law to a supernatural strip club. “Come watch our show at the strip-club.”

“Strip-club,” Zerbrowski repeated testing the word on his tongue. “Hm, well, if it’s a male one I can’t be accused of being too much of a lech. Do I have to tip?” He wondered aloud. 

“Only if you desire,” said Nathaniel, smiling, and Harry was sure Zerbrowski’s blood pressure rose, he could see his ears turning a soft red color. But it wasn’t desire. Just the way it was so easy to talk about sex like the weather. 

“Lead on. From here on I won’t be a detective. Just a bystander.” 

“We’ll hold you to that,” Jason teased, causing Zerbrowski to eye him. 

“You’ll have to ask Katie’s permission.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect your virtue,” Harry snorted as he tucked his wrist through Zerbrowski’s arm. 

“Virtue!” Zerbrowski laughed. “Ah haha, I lost the right to virtue when I was fifteen!” 

“No wonder you’re a lech,” Harry muttered. 

“I was fourteen,” Nathaniel offered. 

“Same,” said Jason shrugging. 

“Nineteen,” Micah answered and then smiled at Harry who glared at him. “Harry here was twenty-four.” 

Zerbrowski squawked. “You were a virgin when I met you?” He was staring at Harry, real shock on his face. 

Harry scowled. “Micah! Did you have to give him more fuel to flame me with?” he whined. 

“Sorry Baby.” Micah pulled Harry into a quick kiss, careful not to dislodge his arm in Zerbrowski’s. 

“No you’re not.” Harry pouted.

“Not really.” Micah grinned and Zerbrowski, Jason, and Nathaniel laughed. They were still laughing as they came upon the corner of Guilty Pleasures and turned to go down the alley. 

“Isn’t the entrance over there?”

“Silly Sergeant, we work here. We don’t go in the front door. We’d be mobbed by fans if we did that. Employee entrance is this way.” Jason teased as he pushed Zerbrowski down the alley. With Zerbrowski along for the ride it was sure to be an interesting night. 

Merlin help them all.


	9. Chapter Nine

The alley between Guilty Pleasures and another building was tightly cramped to the point they could touch each side with their hands and not strain. So they had to skirt on their sides. Zerbrowski was right behind Harry, Nathaniel and Jason leading the way with Micah behind them. Harry wanted to sulk, everyone else’s shoulders were so broad they were almost brushing the walls. 

Nathaniel who was ahead hesitated. “Oh no.” 

“Shit.” 

Harry couldn’t see around them, but their posture let him know that something was wrong, and then women’s voices, high and excited, called out. “Brandon! Brandon!” 

“Ooh, Ripley is with them too!” 

“They’re not supposed to be back here,” said Micah grimly. “Where the hell is the security?” 

“It’s okay, they probably just want an autograph or to touch me. It’ll be okay, probably,” said Nathaniel. 

“Not when you’re off the clock still,” said Harry grumpily. 

“It’s fine,” said Jason, smiling. “Nathaniel here is even more popular than me! They won’t hurt him. He’s good with a crowd, we all are.” 

“But they’re not supposed to be back here,” said Harry. “Where’s Buzz? He would never let this fly.” 

“Probably at the front,” said Micah. “We’ll be your security.” He slipped to get in front without another word. Nathaniel bowed his head, sign of submission. 

“Is everything okay?”

Harry almost jumped. He’d forgotten about Zerbrowski being behind him. “It’s okay. Just wayward fans.” 

“Ah, popular, hm?” He chuckled. 

“You have no idea,” said Harry shaking his head. 

Ahead, Harry could see that there were four of them, two blondes, one brunette, and one with hair as black as his own. 

Nathaniel and Jason chatted the women up like pros, the two blondes were regulars, apparently, and on a first name basis. “We were so excited when we got the email that you were going to be here tonight!” one gushed. She kept touching his arm while they talked.

The black haired one who seemed new, was now rubbing up against Jason who was cocking his head and giving that tell-tale flirty smirk that he was so famous for. 

“Your pictures are amazing!” said the brunette who was a first timer, and had seen their photographs on the website. They had autograph books with pictures and things in it of the dancers, and were begging for them. Zerbrowski kept chuckling quietly, entirely amused. 

“Are these two more new dancers?” one of the blondes asked turning to Micah and Harry, they hadn’t noticed Zerbrowski. Probably for the better. 

“No, we are security and you are in a restricted area,” said Micah, pulling down his shades. He had intended to scare them, but it only made them more giggly. The raven haired one even tried to reach for him only for him to block her efficiently. 

“We just wanted to see him!” 

“Yeah, we’re not doing anything wrong!” 

“Why aren’t you a dancer? You’d be perfect!” 

“I’m the boss, that’s why,” said Micah sharp enough to make the raven back up slightly. The two blondes were clinging on each to Jason and Nathaniel. 

“Ladies, Brandon and Ripley here need to get inside and prepare for their performance!” Harry pushed away from the wall, and pressed his hands each to Jason and Nathaniel. That caused the woman to throw their arms around Jason and Nathaniel’s necks and kiss them simultaneously on the cheek. 

“Beth Ann, Patty, if you don’t let us go I can’t get on stage,” said Nathaniel gently. 

“Stay out here with us, we wouldn’t care!” one of them said.

“Besides, he’s too small to be your security,” the brunette scowled. 

Before Harry could say something a bit more scathing, a shadow flickered over them, and Harry glanced behind him to see Buzz. He had the same black crew cut that he always had, soft pale eyes, and more muscles than anyone Harry had seen in a while. 

Zerbrowski’s eyes widened slightly, likely because he hadn’t heard or noticed Buzz’s arrival. His black shirt said Guilty Pleasures in red letters. 

“Buzz!” Harry cheered. “Can you remove these ladies?” he asked tersely. 

Buzz forced his face into a smile before the women behind them could see him clearly. He was the newly dead, around twenty or so years. 

‘Ladies, you’re not supposed to be back here!” Buzz cajoled, he gently pulled Harry to stand him beside Zerbrowski. His chest was so muscle bound that it looked like there wasn’t room for all of them and his upper body to stand on the small landing into the building. 

The brunette said. “Is he really security?” 

“He is not only security, but he is also the Master’s lover, both of them are.” He looked from Micah and Harry back to the girls who froze at this. He extracted the blondes from Jason and Nathaniel. “It is fine to greet Ripley and Brandon, but you are not allowed to bar their path.” 

“We’re sorry!” pouted one of them. 

The raven haired woman had backed down the steps, eyes a little wide. She didn’t want to play with him, but the two blondes were bolder and swarmed around him. 

“Do not touch me,” Micah warned in a hiss to the brunette who angled closer. 

“But, he’s male, why would you have him as a lover?” She was taking all this way too seriously. “He better not be Brandon’s lover!” 

“If you have a problem with it, perhaps this is not the right club for you?” Buzz said, causing a shocked expression to cross the brunette’s face. “All of Riverfront is an LGBTQ community, and rudeness is not tolerated. Go on, Harry,” he nodded gently to Harry, and Micah took that cue and pushed them through the door. 

Soon enough they were safely behind the door, and Zerbrowski chuckled. “Is that common?” 

“More than you think, but usually they don’t get this far back here,” said Jason. “Usually there’s a guard.” He was wiping lipstick from his cheek. 

Harry turned to wipe it for him. “Is Buzz alright out there?”

“He’ll be fine. He knows how to talk to them,” Nathaniel assured as he pulled his braid around to settle over his shoulder. He had a habit of getting it caught in doorways or it getting pulled. 

“How did they know that you would be here?’ asked Zerbrowski in concern. “That could be dangerous if you had been alone.” You could be off duty, but it didn’t stop you from being one with the law. Normally, he would have a joke about the women, but not when it came to the safety of others. 

“It’s okay, Sergeant, and they don’t follow me around. We have an email when we change headliners that notify them.” 

“There’s a list for each of the headlining dancers,” Jason explained. 

“I want to be jealous. All these women dropping everything to see you perform tonight.” 

Nathaniel chuckled. “It can be fun, but it can also be challenging.” 

“But, wait I thought you guys weren’t on tonight?” 

“I’m not, but Nathaniel is,” said Jason. 

“It’s why I stuck to salad and lean steak tonight,” said Nathaniel. 

“So, who was supposed to be keeping the fans away from this door?” asked Micah. “Buzz can’t be everywhere, surely there’s more security guards.” 

“I can go get Graham,” Harry suggested when the door in question opened, and Buzz slipped inside. 

“Primo,” said Buzz, dropping the pleasant expression once behind the door and looking tired. He had lipstick smears all over him, and Harry was already moving to reach up and wipe it from him.  _ Ulgh _ , he hated lipstick. It smelled funny!

“Bend down!” 

Buzz lowered his head, and Harry continued to wipe the makeup smears. “Are you boys alright?” he looked at Jason and Nathaniel. 

“We’re fine.” 

“I better go talk to Primo, for what good it will do.” He shook his head. 

“What do you mean, good it will do? If he’s supposed to be at this door, why isn’t he?” Harry asked. 

He looked at Harry. “Primo is old, really old. He wants to be one of Jean-Claude’s vamps, but he had his eye on like the number two or at least the number three slot. He’s pissed that he’s having to be security at a strip club. He’s more pissed that a baby like me is his direct boss.” Buzz took on a worried expression. “He’s old school, and he thinks if he keeps pushing me that I’ll call him out. But I’m not going to challenge that thing. He’d kill me.” 

“That won’t fly here, the rules have changed,” said Micah. 

“He doesn’t think the rules apply to him. Jean-Claude gave him a clear warning that if he couldn’t stomach the job and obey me, then he could get out of town.” 

“Jean-Claude only accepts Kiss members that he trusts,” said Harry. “And from the way it sounds, he’s not going to be trusting this Primo any time soon.” 

“You’re right, besides Asher is his number two and Requiem is number three. Primo knows that he can’t dislodge either of them, and so he’s been making things hell where he can.” 

“A lot of the old school vampires don’t understand Jean-Claude’s staunch requirements of having a brain with their power,” he told Zerbrowski off-handedly. 

“Oh?” 

“So when strong vampires come into town hoping to be part of Jean-Claude’s Kiss, he will test them. How are they around humans? Lycanthropes? How do they treat those younger and less powerful? Do they start or diffuse situations?” 

“Smart, all things needed in a right hand or Lieutenant,” said Zerbrowski. 

“Exactly. Most of the old school vampires believe power above all else,” said Harry with a shake of his head. “Jean-Claude has become one of the most powerful new fountainheads in centuries, and he’s the first in America.” 

“Even Asher, someone that Jean-Claude is very acquainted with and cares about deeply, had to do the same thing this Primo is doing,” Micah also explained. 

“Asher still comes by and helps from time to time,” said Buzz nodding. 

“Fountainhead?” asked Zerbrowski. 

“Head of his own line,” Harry said. “It’s rare and very difficult to be able to break away from the one who created you.” 

“Guys, I need to get into the office and talk to Jean-Claude about tonight’s performance,” said Nathaniel. 

“I’ll go with you,” said Micah instantly. 

“I’ll join in a minute,” said Harry. He wanted to hear more in case he had to diffuse a situation. “Jason go with him, make sure there isn’t makeup in his hair.” 

Jason chuckled. “Yep! Well lover, looks like we’re parting,” he teased Zerbrowski who grinned. 

“Yes, such sweet sorrow.” 

Jason then kissed Zerbrowski’s cheek and Micah laughed. “You’re encouraging him, Sergeant.” He kissed Harry on the forehead, and left the two at the door with Buzz. 

“He’s given me a lot of flirty comebacks to use on Katie,” said Zerbrowski, making Harry laugh. 

“Be careful with that. He’ll give you more than you bargained for.” He then turned to Buzz. “I’ll talk to Jean-Claude, but what else is Primo doing?” 

“He’s started taking money to let in people we don’t let in.” 

“Like who?” 

“He let in two HAVs,” Harry frowned at this. “And inappropriate men and women. You know, the ones who smell like fear and were coerced by a partner or friend, and then there are those who come in feeling and smelling angry. We don’t discriminate.” He looked at Zerbrowski. “But a bit of profiling always comes with the job. If they smell negative we turn them away.” 

“Logical. Most clubs have a drink limit to keep from things getting out of hand,” he said nodding in understanding. “I’m not a cop today. I’m just walking around learning,” he told Buzz. 

Harry nodded. “Zeze is great. I can call in some wolves to help you out.” 

Buzz looked at Harry in relief. “I wouldn’t say no, but I would fear for them too. He’s old, Harry, and powerful.” 

“Doesn’t mean he can’t be outsmarted, and I know just who to call,” said Harry, sending a text to Jamil. Shang-Da was with Marcus in Florida. 

“But, I think Primo is near uncontrollable. He’s not a brute. I can handle the strong-arm stuff, obviously. But he’s dripping with power. He doesn’t have the temperament for this job.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“He’s more likely to start fights than stop them. He’ll take money from these guys to get in, and then he’ll throw their asses out.” 

Harry sighed. “This doesn’t sound like a problem that Jean-Claude would let go this far.” 

“Not normally,” said Buzz. “But it’s like Jean-Claude is waiting to see what we’ll do before he steps in. I’d just as soon not be dead before he does it. Also, Jean-Claude has been a bit off today.” 

“How off?” 

“Easy to anger, testy. It’s like he’s waiting for something, and Primo isn’t helping matters. Like with the women outside tonight, they were okay. But we’ve had one dancer that was stalked, another one had an irate husband go after him with a knife because he was jealous that his wife was a member of the dancer’s fan club.” 

“That’s serious,” said Zerbrowski. 

Harry patted Buzz on the arm. “It’s okay, Buzz. I’ll find out what’s going on, and Jamil is coming. He’s also bringing Claudia and Bobby Lee. I told them that they’d be all yours as soon as they got here. So don’t hesitate to stick them where you need them.”

He squeaked when Buzz grabbed him up in a tight muscle fitting hug. It lifted Harry right off the ground. Zerbrowski was chuckling quietly, and Harry was huffing as he patted the gentle giant. Really, it wasn’t the big men that people had to worry about, most of them were gentle as gentle could get. 

As Buzz sat Harry back down on his feet that dangled, Clay, one of their brand new werewolves, came running through the door at the end of the hallway, accompanied by a sudden blast of music and noise. He was blond and if Harry remembered correctly he was in college. It was hard to remember all his wolves. He ran like he was on springs. 

He was talking before he got to them. “We got a problem out there, Primo let a bunch of guys in, they started heckling Byron. You said come get you the next time it got ugly. It’s ugly.” 

Harry turned. “Let’s go.” 

“You don’t have to, Harry. He’s dangerous. You should get the Master,” said Buzz. 

“It’s okay. I can handle it, and if we can diffuse the situation before it gets worse then let’s do it.” 

“I’m Clay, it’s nice to meet you! You’re my new Lupa, but I was told the annual dinner was on hold because our Ulfric was out of town?” 

“You would be right. He’s at a medical convention thing in Florida. Same to you, Clay, lovely to meet you!” 

“Pleasantries later, I’m so tired of this,” said Buzz as his eyes sparked. 

The music was still playing a pulsing beat, but the man on stage wasn’t dancing because he wasn’t the show anymore. The show was a small ocean of college students surrounding a man that towered above them. He was like a pale tower caught in the middle of their jeans and letterman jackets. The tallest of them only came to his shoulder, but there were a lot of them. Almost all of them were wearing a jacket that indicated that they did some kind of sport. Some of them looked almost as musclebound as the club security. Primo had picked a good bunch if he wanted to start trouble. 

The other black-shirted security guards didn’t seem to know what to do. Their divided loyalties showed in the fact that they hadn’t waded in to help Primo. They were on the fringe of the gang of college guys, keeping them contained as best as they could, but they weren’t pulling them off the big vampire. If Harry hadn’t known anything about Primo and what he’d gone on before, he’d have learned something just by watching the other men refuse to help him. 

It wasn’t Primo’s size that was the problem. It was the waves of power that radiated off of him, even Zerbrowski could feel it from beside Harry. 

“What are you going to do? This is-” 

“Just let us handle it, Zeze. It’s important in the vampire circles for the Master to have control. If he doesn’t, then others will start undermining him, and that’s when you get problems that RPIT has to investigate. He can’t be weak. At all times, he has to be the one who is the strongest.” 

Most vampire and lycanthrope power filled a room like a water rising, until those sensitive enough could drown in it. Primo’s power literally pulsed and flowed. Every time he smacked someone with his bag open hand, the power spiked and tightened along Harry’s skin. His power seemed to feed off his own violence. Like Jean-Claude and the ardeur. 

It was all making sense, rage was his power, and he was likely trying to get more powerful with every fight level spike. But, he wasn’t bashing at them, instead he kept his big hands open, just slapping them around like dolls, which was of course very insulting to the male college students. 

One of the biggest of the group jumped onto Primo, hanging on to his shoulder and arm. Primo grabbed him by the shoulder and peeled him off like he was nothing. He tossed him into the coat check booth, and earned a scream from the holy item-check girl that worked there. Primo’s power was thick enough to walk on, but only for a second, then down it went. He couldn’t sustain it. 

“Primo! Primo, stop fighting back, we need to get this out of the club!” 

Primo’s answer to that was to pick up two college students by the throat, one in each hand, as if he meant to bang their heads together. But while his hands were busy, another enterprising young man, with short brown hair and shoulders nearly as wide as Buzz’s, hit him in the face. It rocked the vampire’s head back, and blood blossomed at his mouth, like a crimson flower on all the white skin. 

The music from the stage died abruptly, and into that sudden silence Primo screamed. A huge rage-filled battle cry. He dropped the two men in his hands like they were nothing and went for the man who’d hit him. Harry expected him to throw him around like he had the others, but he didn’t. He picked him up by the front of his jacket until his feet dangled off the ground, and he was probably choking on his own collar. But instead of big pale shoulders bunching to throw the man, Primo’s hand went back, and this time closed his fist. From that close up, with that kind of strength he was going to snap the man’s neck. 

Harry moved as if on auto-pilot, his magic flung out causing a resounding bang, and not only was everyone forced back like a gust of wind, but Primo was forced to drop the man otherwise risk flying away with him. 

“Enough!” Harry found himself standing in the middle, his hand out at his side forcing a ring of emptiness around him and Primo. 

He came at Harry, almost too fast for anyone to see. Buzz let out a noise as if to rush in and stop him, but Harry kept them back as he did a sort of tango dance with Primo; side-stepping, and then bringing his forearm down between the vampire’s shoulder blades causing him to suddenly drop face down on the ground. Primo retaliated by throwing his power and weight right at Harry, a hiss forming on his bloody mouth, and Harry slashed his arm down causing the power inside of him to strike Primo from afar sending him tumbling to the ground. 

“What the fuck are you?” Primo spat as red lashes formed across his neck and face from Harry’s power. “You can’t have done this.” 

“Oh? And why not?” He slashed again making Primo fall onto his back this time. “Too human for you, darling?” 

That was when a strong wave of power filled the entire room, folding back Primo and everyone else except for Harry. It came out like a thick wave and Harry could feel him before seeing him. Jean-Claude’s power transformed into warmth that kissed across the skin of everyone in the room. Harry didn’t look behind him, keeping Primo within his sights at all times. “You have gone way too far, Primo. You are not master here in my city. You will obey or be forced to leave these borders.” 

“Someone, get these kids out of here, now!” Harry ordered sharply. Immediately, security sprang into action, some of the kids tried to fight them off, but they were no match for the rest of security and a couple of waiters who hauled their arses out of the club. 

“No, they’re mine!” Primo sneered. “These humans bloodied me!” There was such rage in his words that they scalded along the skin. He fed on his anger as well as violence. 

“How did a vampire of your power allow a mere human to bloody you?” Jean-Claude’s voice was easy, conversational, but in Harry's head for the first time since Harry got angry with him and shut him out, he whispered.  _ “I fear I underestimated him.” _ “If you wish to act uncouth then I shall treat you uncouthly, Primo.” 

_ “Then stop baiting those who love you, Jean!”  _ Harry shouted sharply at him.  _ “Stop hurting them with your constant testing! Be a master, not a tyrant!”  _

Jean-Claude raised a single hand, and it made Primo rise from the ground like a puppet on the strings. Primo’s eyes widened. “Wh-what are you-? How? Impossible! You’re not strong enough!” 

“Non?” Jean-Claude slashed his other hand, and Harry felt the energy of mental shields transform into a powerful blade, and it sliced through Primo in a series of criss-crosses that saw his skin bursting open. 

Jean-Claude hadn’t been able to do that in such a strong way before. He’d always known the method, but he hadn’t the power to make anything more than light lashes. It was the one thing many masters had over Jean-Claude. He had all their knowledge, but not their abilities. Jean-Claude’s ardeur helped turn all this knowledge into something he could use, but to do that he had to feed, to feel them to their base, break apart this knowledge until he had the power to cast it.

It was like a light-switch then as Harry assessed the situation.  _ “The more I feed on vampires, the more you get their abilities and learn them. Is that right?”  _ He asked solemnly. 

_ “Oui.”  _

_ “And because I never fed on a single vampire before…”  _

_ “I could not access the power, mon Amour. Yes, I am sorry.”  _

Every feeding offered Jean-Claude a great amount of power. Harry had been feeding on the same men in alternate rotation. Jean-Claude could gain nothing more from them. He had to send Harry someone new. 

Primo broke through the power Jean-Claude had over them, and Harry had just enough time to react and cast a Conjuctivitis Curse sending Primo to his knees. His eyes turned white followed by a scream as his hands went to his face. “My eyes! Damn you, Jean-Claude, damn you! You are not vampire enough to do this. You were never vampire enough for this!” 

“Did you come to St. Louis to destroy me and take my place?” Jean-Claude cooed as he stepped forward and leaned down. A spill of white and lace made him look like some ethereal night angel, his long curly hair flowing like a wave. 

His power was dripping higher and pulsing more than Primo, and Harry saw the master vampire become momentarily worried and confused, but still too angry to think logically. To be clear in his head. 

“You cannot even be master of yourself, Primo, that is why you fail. Power alone is not enough to rule this city.” 

“Even blind, I am their match!” Primo moved into a crouch on the balls of his heels, the movement must have hurt like hell, but he never winced. He put one big bloody hand on the floor, and the other in the air as if he were sensing movement. It was close to a martial arts move. He was huge, a vampire, nearly impervious to pain, crazy, and trained in the arts. 

But, Harry had also been trained. He’d been trained by Death. 

Primo didn’t leap or move, and instead he thrust as much power as he possibly could at them, and Harry realized in a flash that it wasn’t his own. It was the power of someone else, tasted like the council.

Rage. Pure unadulterated rage that could touch everything in the club, and turn them all on their heads. Since Jean-Claude was closest, he was trying to consume Jean-Claude with his rage because he knew that if a Master of the City was consumed by rage that would be a very bad thing. 

Harry, on the other hand, was different and he stepped up to run a hand along Jean-Claude’s arm causing the rage to fold back when Harry poured his emotions and feelings into his vampire sweetie, and then Harry let go. He knew one way and one way only to stop this shit. 

It was to bind Primo. He let Primo pounce, willingly. He grabbed Harry, and sank his fangs sharply into his outstretched wrist, and Harry let him. As the blood flowed into the growling vampire, Harry began to speak as he pushed his own power through the blood. 

“Rage is nothing. Rage is temporary. Rage will get you nowhere. So instead, let’s teach you what it’s like to love something,” he breathed softly, but everyone with sensitive hearing could pick up his every word. Primo couldn’t move, he started shaking as the blood spilled into his mouth and slid down his throat. His white eyes going wide with terror. 

That was when Harry saw into Primo’s mind, like a legilimens it trailed through him. Roman army, the murder that got him condemned, the arena where he could murder to his heart’s content, where he could feed the rage or let it starve. Death after death after death, and each one fed him in a way that nothing else did. 

Then one dark night a noblewoman requested he come to her bed with the blood and sweat of his victory painted on his body. He went and found so much more than he’d ever dreamt of. She offered him freedom and a new way to feed his rage. A new way to kill. He did not know her real name. She had simply said. “I am the Dragon, and you will serve me.” And he did. 

As the memories stopped, it staggered Harry for a moment. Primo still had his mouth to Harry’s wrist, but now there was healed flesh, and sight back in his eyes. Harry knew from Jean-Claude’s mind that Primo could heal almost anything with a little special blood. He’d been aiming for a lycanthrope, but Harry’s blood had done the trick. Harry understood now why Jean-Claude had wanted him. He was a powerful soldier, if you could control him. 

Primo slowly released Harry’s wrist, and his eyes rolled terror. “What are you?” 

“Not what, Primo, who.” Harry grazed his fingers along Primo’s cheek causing the man to flinch in fear. “Who am I?” 

“Death. Master.” He whispered, and the word seemed to spill from his lips. He hated it and loved it. He wanted more of Harry’s blood, and he wanted to reject it. Harry’s power wasn’t rage. It was the counterpart to rage. But, Harry knew he hated not being his own master. When he took that bloody kiss, he had always assumed that someday he would rule, and now he knew different. “You are my master.” 

Primo had become theirs. 

The marks between Jean-Claude and Harry were wide open, and he could feel Edward and Micah along the lines of that power. When he bit Harry, he wasn’t just tasting Harry, he was tasting Jean-Claude as well. He also tasted things to come should he fall out of line. Cold empty death, teeth tearing him apart. Primo had been overwhelmed with a double whammy. Harry’s control of rage and the dead, Jean-Claude’s control of vampires. 

And when Harry finally released Primo, he turned to look at Jean-Claude good and proper for the first time that night. Merlin, did this man always have to be so delicious? It was causing his spine to tingle, and his head to become woozy. Guilty Pleasures was suddenly very hot. 

Jean-Claude had chosen to wear a black velvet waist-length military jacket with silver buttons down the front and a high stiff collar to frame a white mound of cravat. A silver tie tack with a sapphire in it’s head pierced the white at his throat. The jacket fit the spread of his shoulders, emphasizing his slender waist, and took the eye to the black leather trousers that looked as if they’d been braided together on the sides. The boots were only knee high, made of the same rich dark velvet as the coat. 

Jean-Claude’s slender hand came up to caress his cheek causing him to flare up inside, and he was suddenly very aware of how the white lace felt on his hyper sensitive skin. His black curls mingled with the velvet until it was hard to tell where one began and the other ended. His eyes were huge and beautiful, a color darker than sapphire at this throat. His eyes were as dark as blue could be and did not hold a single shade of black. His face was a pale perfection like a painting almost finished. Harry noticed that he was like ice. 

“Why so cold?” 

“Let me back in, please. I don’t like this doghouse,” Jean-Claude whispered, and Harry blinked when he realized that he had been shielding so hard he had effectively cut Jean-Claude’s power in half, not only that, but it had been his fault for the Primo situation. 

“I’m-” 

“Non. It was my fault. I did not have the respect.” 

“But, it wouldn’t have left you this low,” Harry recognized. “Even without me, you’re powerful enough-” But Jean-Claude stopped him with a cold kiss to his lips. He was almost frozen and frigid, and so Harry took hold of his sculpted cheeks, and he spread some warmth inside of him. 

“I have done what I could from a distance to make your day easier. Please, let me back in.” 

And like that, Harry did, and the world swam as the heat pulsed, and the ardeur reared out of him like a thousand hungry beasts, and the world around him faded as he swayed. Jean-Claude’s lips caressed Harry’s drawing out some of his warmth as the hunger of the ardeur stirred through them. It felt as though Jean-Claude had reached into his soul and gently pulled him out of hiding. It was like blood, but not blood. It was energy, some of Harry’s force flowing into Jean-Claude. It was the equivalent of Micah and Harry’s beasts pushing together and sharing energy, but instead of a beast it was a soul, soul upon soul touching each other. Jean-Claude slowly thawed out, his pale cheeks took on a soft rose color. 

Harry was barely aware of the fact that if they did not stop, the entire room was going to fall prey to one hell of an orgy. But, at that moment. He didn’t care. He wanted and needed Jean-Claude. He had to have him. 

Harry moaned slightly in distress when Jean-Claude parted them. “Mon Tueur d'Ombre. You are late.” 

“As ever.” 

“I think mon Amour needs taken care of. I need to fix this mess.” 

“How is it I miss the fun?” 

“Edward…” Harry breathed, turning almost blindly. He saw his human death standing stoically, gun at his side, ice blue eyes assessing the situation. He was wearing black leather trousers that sat well on his frame coupled with a tight white t-shirt. He had a shoulder holster perfectly in view, well tailored to his frame. Harry was aware of how nice his bare arms looked. He liked to take advantage of their home gym that had been moved from the basement and expanded. Draco had at one time joked about charging admission since so many people came over just to use it. Even Jean-Claude had brought his dancers by to use the gym on occasion whenever there were electrical shortages or something going on at the dance studio. Teddy loved joining, and that was their only admission requirement. Not that anyone minded, and Harry knew the kid was going to be a force come his teenage years. So many sexy dancers, Teddy was going to have all the moves in his adorable arsenal. Even Peter would sit in on their dancing lessons from time to time. 

“Come on, Little Raven. Let’s get you somewhere a little more quiet. We also need to calm down your guest.” It took a minute to realize that Edward meant Zerbrowski. 

_ Oops _ . 

Jean-Claude gently pushed Harry into Edward’s arms, and even though he was drunk and full of carnal burning need, he was still aware enough to remember that leaving Edward’s stronger side open for shooting was always a must. So he wrapped around the man from his other side, and pressed his lips into his neck. A hand touched the small of his back, and he let his personal Death lead him away. 

Jean-Claude’s office had been expanded to be big enough to hold at least ten people comfortably. A wrap around white tufted couch was in one corner overlooking a lovely oil painting in a silver frame. His desk was a black walnut, large and sat in the middle toward the wall, a soft white expensive rug beneath their feet with pops of sapphire, emerald, and ruby coloring. Lit lanterns made of crystals were tastefully running over the top of the wall, there was another tall portrait right behind the desk showing a night sky and a glowing moon with wolves running in and out of the frame. It was as tall as Jean-Claude, and for good reason. It was an emergency exit. 

Harry took in a sharp shuddering breath, and managed to pull away from Edward as the heat continued to smash into him. 

“Is he okay? What happened out there?” asked Zerbrowski. “I can’t even make sense of it.” 

“Vampire politics,” said Edward, and Harry used Edward’s voice as a thread to pull on and come back down from the creatures filled with repressed hunger. He sank down onto the couch and ran his fingers through his hair as he rocked forward. He could smell both of the men in the room way too well. His skin was itching, and the Incubus inside was clearly unsatisfied. It was threatening to pull everyone in the room toward him. Harry couldn’t let that happen as he worked to stamp it down. 

“That was politics?” Zerbrowski asked in shock. 

“He is what happens when master vampires who don’t belong come into a city to try and take over,” Harry tried to focus on the important details. 

“And what did you do to him?” asked Zerbrowski. “Why aren’t the cops going to be involved?” 

“If the cops got involved the streets would run red, Sergeant,” said Edward. “To the preternatural world it would mean that Jean-Claude has lost control of the city, and every hungry monster would come for a bite.”

“Primo’s power is rage,” said Harry breathlessly as he rolled a hand across his jeans as if to force a burn onto his palm. “The more he incited anger the more he fed from it, the stronger he became. So I took that rage, and gave him something he didn’t understand. If it had hit Jean-Claude, it would have been catastrophic.” 

“In other words he can walk into any bar or community and release his rage causing everyone to kill each other,” said Edward. 

Harry nodded. “Yes.” 

“And what did you give him that he didn’t understand?” asked Zerbrowski. 

“I shoved my feelings for Jean-Claude into him when he bit me, and Jean-Claude through me, blood oathed him to stop what was going on out there.” 

“Why was he invited?” 

“He wasn’t invited so much as he was forced onto Jean-Claude,” Edward replied, and once again Harry was surprised by how honest the man was being with Zerbrowski. 

“How long have you been back?” Work. Focus on work, and not on Edward’s muscles or his hips or the curve of his jaw. Yeah, not on the ice blue eyes that penetrated, not on the voice that made his insides dance. His hunger was thumping, but it was manageable, for now. 

“About twenty minutes, I knew Micah and the boys were with you. I had some questions about New Orleans I wanted answered, and didn’t trust to ask them over the phone.” 

“Forced?” Zerbrowski asked, and Harry was surprised by how calm the man was being. 

“The Dragon is part of the vampire council,” said Edward. “The vampire council would be the equivalent of the President and his secret service. They are the most powerful monsters in the world.” 

“Jean-Claude has recently been able to leave their control by becoming his own fountainhead,” said Harry. “Remember when I was attacked remotely?” Zerbrowski nodded. “That was his fountainhead trying to get to him through me. She can’t do that anymore. Frankly speaking, Jean-Claude’s fast rise to power has the vampire council uneasy and some of them extremely envious. He is young to be a fountainhead by vampire standards, and at the same time should be passed his prime to keep gaining power. But…” 

“He is powerful and some don’t like it,” said Zerbrowski. 

“Yes. If you had interfered it would have made him weak. It would have undermined his strength. It would have shown a weakness that the Master of the City would cow to the human authorities, and there would be masters swarming to seek his head.” 

“Why can you interfere then? You’re a Federal Marshall.” 

“Yes, but I am also Jean-Claude’s lover and human servant. I’m considered his equal. When I speak, it’s Jean-Claude speaking and when I hand down an action it’s his action. Everything I do is Jean-Claude’s doing and everything he does is my doing. That’s the way the preternatural sees it, that’s how they always see it.”

Zerbrowski blinked and then took off his glasses in confusion and began to clean them. “Servant? I think I have that in my notes somewhere, the human servant of a vampire means they give and take each other’s strengths? Some sort of close bond.” 

Harry nodded. “But I’m a bit different. I don’t follow the natural rules.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I can say no whenever I want to,” said Harry. “He can’t control me like most servants, and he would never try.” 

“Why can’t he?” 

“I’m a Necromancer. I raise the dead. Just doesn’t work that way with us. I’m also a wizard. We cannot be controlled so easily. In fact, I think I might be the first real wizard who was ever a human servant. But, being with me grants Jean-Claude certain perks that he couldn’t get with anyone else. As I am a Federal Marshall, and part of the law. He can use me to do the things that would look absolutely weak to the vampire community. But he still has to maintain control, especially for someone as strong as Primo. If Jean-Claude backs down, that’s a sign of submission, a sign that he is not strong enough to be leader.” 

“I really wished I’d brought my notebook,” Zerbrowski remarked, placing his glasses back over his eyes. 

“You saw the real community when you were walking around,” said Harry. “Riverfront is the safest district in St. Louis. It’s just men like Primo, who come in thinking they can take over, that’s the problem. No human law enforcement could control a man like Primo. Not even if you had napalm.”  _ But, Edward could _ , he didn’t say it, but Edward must have heard his thoughts with the stare he received. 

“What’s going to happen to him?” asked Zerbrowski. 

Harry had an idea because even as he sat there, he could feel Jean-Claude using Primo to feed the ardeur, to feed them both through the crowd. It was making it easier to think without the constant roar of hunger. It was hardly satisfying, but it kept him level-headed. “Since we blood oathed him, he won’t be able to cause issues ever again. Some vampires live so far removed from society that they don’t understand how things work. It’s like taking a prehistoric caveman from the past and plonking him down into the modern world and telling him to figure it out.” 

Zerbrowski actually laughed. “A lot of head clubbing, and female kidnapping.” 

“And fires,” Edward remarked. 

“Exactly, they need to be taught. I saw Primo’s memories, he was a Roman soldier, and I think it might have been the Battle of the Allia he was in. I can’t be sure though.” Jean-Claude had become his unintentional history teacher. Edward was more appreciative of the history than Harry. 

“Roman?” Zerbrowski squawked. 

Harry nodded. “Yeah, Roman back when they had gladiator arenas and the like, and the master who made him is twice his age and strength. I could feel her layer of power. It was pure rage.” He looked at Edward. 

“And yet you stopped her?” asked Edward. 

“In her tracks.” 

“Good, Little Raven. It’s what I like to hear.” 

“Sorry you had to see that, I was hoping to show you a fun time,” said Harry. “Bad timing.” 

“How is he going to get control of the crowd? That was one hell of a fight,” said Zerbrowski. 

“Make them think it’s part of an act,” said Harry. 

“He can do that?”

“If Primo’s power is rage, Zerbrowski, Jean-Claude’s power lies in that of lust.” 

“Does every vampire have these individual powers?” 

“No. Most don’t, and some have watered down versions.” Merlin, Zerbrowski had to get out of here. He was feeling hotter by the second, and Jean-Claude had opened their links in his mind, and he turned to Edward to see that the link was also going through him, the only real sign of this was the wrinkle in his forehead. 

Primo had become a show for the crowd, and Jean-Claude was pulling the rest of the energy he needed from Primo. 

Harry shivered when sensations were poured through him. How was Edward unaffected by the lust that raged through them? He was having a hard time sitting still. He kept squirming and shifting. Sometimes he would lean back only to lean forward again. His hands rubbed the thigh of his jeans again until Edward reached around to Harry’s neck and pinched the skin where the tattoo lay, and all of a sudden it was like the ardeur was muted. The fog and hunger began to lift from Harry’s body. “How did you do that?” he asked wild-eyed. 

“Later, Little Raven,” Edward smirked. 

“Where’s Micah?” Harry asked. 

“Helping to calm the crowd, and shadowing Nathaniel,” said Edward. “It seems that a couple of women managed to slip into the club while everyone was distracted by Primo.” 

“Surprised he didn’t interfere. He’s been rather protective today.” 

“He trusted that you had it. He’ll be along soon I’m sure.” 

“Good, we have to have a long conversation, all of us,” said Harry. “Although, I do understand a bit more now. Still doesn’t stop the need for a serious conversation.” He curled in on himself. 

Before Edward could ask or make a comment, the door opened and Harry saw Byron and Requiem step inside followed by Damian. 

Damian made a beeline for Harry without stopping. “Have I caused you distress, master?” he asked, not really seeing anyone else in the room. 

“No, Damian.” Harry touched his cheek. 

“But it seems, I have. I do apologize, Little Prince, I did not mean to drive a wedge between you and the Master,” said Requiem richly. “I fear if it hadn’t been for us perhaps the situation could have been handled much more appropriately.” 

“If you did not wish for us, luv, we would have honored it,” said Byron, his deep large gray eyes looked sad, lost at not being wanted. 

“It had nothing to do with that, Byron,” said Harry softly. “Requiem, I am sorry.”

Requiem shook his head. “I assure you, I have tasted enough lust in my centuries to choose whether to bow out or not. I chose not to. Even when you told me to leave, I chose to stay.” 

“You only chose not to because of Jean-Claude’s orders.” 

“No, I chose to because I wished to. I do not wish to cause a schism in a community that I have come to admire and respect. I have never seen a community of preternatural so accepting, and I could taste how your good heart was helping the community.” He crossed over and knelt down. “Please accept my humble apologies.” He gathered Harry’s hand and pressed a kiss to the back of his knuckles. 

“What’s going on?” Zerbrowski asked. 

“Ah, yes. Detective…” Byron shifted to face Zerbrowski. “We’ve reserved you a table at the front, Nathaniel’s request. Jason is waiting for you there. Said something about ensuring you had a good time.” The vampire winked.

“Go on, Zeze. See the show.” Harry smiled.

“You sure Harry?” 

“Yah, we can catch up again later. If you see Micah, make sure he comes in and isn’t being distracted himself.” Harry winked. Zerbrowski left with a chuckle. Edward waited until he was gone before he turned a sharp gaze onto the vampires and Harry.

“What is he talking about?” asked Edward. 

“It hit last night at the same time Damian had some issues,” said Harry. “Byron, Requiem, and Damien were the only ones with me. It turns out that Jean decided to test Requiem, who listed himself in the paperwork as strictly heterosexual, by sending him to me as food.”

“The four of us had to agree on who got to be food.” Edward’s eyes narrowed. 

All the memories of last night came crashing back to him. It was so painful that it ripped something in him. To be seen as a predator, to be a monster. Something he never wanted to happen. Tears started running down his face as he took a shuddering breath. “I tried to get them to leave. They told me their orders from Jean trumped any from me. The ardeur forced the issue.” Harry sat up straight, fully expecting the next move Edward made. He made him promise after all. “The three of you will do nothing.” Harry made sure to make eye contact with the three vampires, who nodded in confusion, before he looked at Edward full on. 

Edward pulled his gun from his thigh holster, clicked off the safety, and aimed.

Harry smiled peacefully as the others drew back in shock. “Thank you.”


	10. Chapter Ten

Heartbeats can last a long time when you want them to, the way they rise from chest to the throat, and sometimes you can even feel them coming out of the mouth. Harry stared at Edward for an increasingly long heart-beat. Harry was the only one in the world that Edward would not hurt. But Harry was also the only one in the world that Edward would hurt himself for. Both he and Edward shared a connection that wasn’t servitude of any kind. It was an equal understanding that if one got to be too much that they would end it. Harry thought that love couldn’t be stronger than it was in that moment. Edward had promised. Most would have taken back that promise. Even Micah and Jean-Claude would have taken it back. 

But not Edward. 

He felt Damian draw back, but didn’t hear the noises coming from him. He didn’t hear or see anything but Edward. 

“Gardien? What is going on?” Micah called from the door as he and Jean-Claude stopped in shock. “Why are you pointing a primed gun at Harry?” 

“Because of a promise, Alpha. It doesn’t matter what anyone does after we are through, I keep my promises.” Edward stated without emotion.

“What promise?” Micah edged into the room.

“That if I ever forced someone again, Edward would kill me. Ensure that I would not become a monster.” Harry said, keeping eye contact with Edward. “I love you. All of you.”

“I love you too, Little Raven.” Before Edward could pull the trigger, Jean-Claude sped across the room and stopped right in front of the gun.

“I cannot let you shoot mon Amour for something I caused. Don’t forget both heart  _ and _ head.”

“If you love him why would you shoot him?” Requiem gasped. 

“Because I love him enough to do what needs to be done,” Edward said blankly. “A promise between the two of us. He would do the same.” 

“I don’t understand!” Micah inched closer. “You can’t do this Edward, please don’t.” 

“I have to,” said Edward. “He agreed to take my life once before should things go a certain way, and I agreed to do the same to him. Everyone is a monster, but there is always a line a person won’t cross. I’ve known him far longer than any of you. He was emptier than me when we met. Nothing in him at all. I won’t let that happen again. I promised him.” 

Jean-Claude’s fingers gently wrapped around Edward’s and he raised the gun. “It is a little low, mon Tueur d'Ombre, and I understand promise more than most. If it is your will to kill the responsible party then this is where you should be aiming...” 

“Jean, get out of the way. This is a promise between Edward and I after what happened with Rafael and Jamil.”

“You are most willing to face death for strangers?” Requiem’s voice was but a whisper. 

“Edward and I are Death, Requiem. I do not fear it. I embrace it.” He waved his hand causing Jean-Claude to forcefully slide away.

“But, it was not unwilling, gunman, you must know that!” said Requiem moving closer to Edward. “Please do not shoot him for something I  _ agreed _ to. I don’t wish to see a Shakespearean tragedy for something I caused!” 

“I think everyone’s played a part in this,” said Byron. “Harry is the innocent party. If anything, we took advantage of him.” 

“Edward, please!” Micah tried to pull on his arm, he had tears in his eyes, and he was wild and desperate. “Baby… you can’t...” 

And then the gun went off, but it was a millimeter off course causing it to smash into the stone wall. It was a silver nitrate glazer round, and the damn thing actually put a hole in the stonework. It was smoking. 

“Edward…” 

“It was consensual, Little Raven. Unless you’re lying? But, no. I don’t think you are,” said Edward looking Requiem in the eyes.

Requiem didn’t draw back as he met Edward’s eyes. “So fascinating to watch real love play out in such a way, but I assure you I was more than willing. It is true, I do not wish for men. Belle Morte’s requirements had become too much for me, and she addicted me to the ardeur. I managed to flee from it. But, exceptions can be made to golden rules. I do not want to be the cause of such unrest. Please do nothing.” 

“Do not put me in such a position, Jean-Claude,” Edward turned and zeroed in on him. Micah curled into one side of him, shaking so hard at what had almost happened, and Edward rubbed his back to calm him. 

“Oui, I am sorry, mon Tueur d'Ombre, mon Amour, mon Chaton.” He stepped closer, and caressed Edward’s wrist. He too had tears in his eyes, but he was steady. “I did not realize what I had done until I entered the doghouse. If it is anyone you shoot, make sure it is me. I did not care enough about mon Amour’s feelings. Not more than I cared about the need to get control.” 

“You want me to shoot you?” Edward growled. 

“If you must. But, you do know if you had killed him, you’d have killed everyone?” 

“Yes, I know.” 

“Even you.” 

“I know. I was counting on it,” said Edward, and he clicked the safety back into place. “I think we need to have a very long chat.” 

“Oui.” Jean-Claude closed his eyes. “Requiem, Byron, and Damien out. It is time we sat down.”

“I’m not leaving.” Damien snarled.

“I’ll be fine, Damien. If I was going to be killed, it would have happened already.” Harry assured his vampire servant. He kissed Damian’s forehead. 

“But, why would you want to die?” asked Damian. “I don’t understand. Why would you agree? I just - I don’t get it.” 

“I don’t know how to explain what you don’t understand,” said Harry. “But, I can try.” He kissed Damian chastely, and the scarlet haired vampire sighed and wrapped his arms around him. “But, simply put, Edward is my protection from myself, and I him.” 

“Correct,” said Edward. 

“To stop me from being what Belle Morte is, to stop me from being my own worst nightmare, and to stop me from being like the master you had for centuries, Damian. I won’t be them, I won’t be corrupted. I won’t abuse my powers, and Edward won’t let me. For now, you should go. No one will be hurt tonight, I promise.” 

Damian bowed his head. “I think I might understand.” He rose at this, his face set in a complicated mask. Requiem and Byron both left the room with him leaving the four in utter silence. 

Jean-Claude slowly ran his palms over his face, his hands ever so slightly shaken. “I apologize to both of you.” To Harry’s surprise, Jean-Claude actually flinched when Edward stepped up, and pried his wrists from his face. 

“Why no communication? You two are connected, Toy. You know how he feels about being used in that way.” 

“Oui.” 

“Then why?” asked Edward. “You are the only vampire that I would ever regard as someone good enough for the Little Raven, are you going to throw that away too?” 

“Non,” said Jean-Claude. “But I need to be equal or greater to keep us protected, mon Tueur d'Ombre. For months and weeks now I have council members coming at us on all sides, all of them demanding and requesting, all challenging if I am strong enough to hold the city. To be powerful enough. I did it to protect all of you. I sent them to mon Amour because he has never fed from a vampire. Every time one feeds the ardeur you gain strength and abilities, you gain a foresight into each individual vampire. It is how Belle Morte amassed such an army, such a fear that she cannot be touched by anyone. I fear there will come a day when she will come here, try and take everything. I want to be prepared for that. I do not want to lose us. You would survive if I were to die, I have no doubt about it. But it would kill all of us if something happens to him.” 

“I wouldn’t want to live anyway,” said Micah who had drawn away from Edward was now sitting on the couch and curled around Harry, holding him tight like a lifeline. He wrapped his legs and arms around his Nimir-Ra, his leopard metaphysically rubbing against Harry to check that he was really alright, every now and then licking at him.

“Who would?” said Jean-Claude with a soft breath. “I want us to be prepared, there are such strong forces in our world, Edward, and many wish to tear our powers apart or consume them. We must be prepared for that. There are many things I have knowledge of that the rest of the vampire world does not. I have the knowledge, but I do not have the capabilities. They fear me because of this knowledge. I have gained much over the centuries to gain my freedom. Our powers spark great fear in those who are old. They fear the new wave of vampire we are spreading in our city. Yvette and the Earthmover have caused me to take a harsh look at the council. I fear there is going to be some serious attacks in the coming year. Something Yvette said about her master, Morte d’Amour.” 

“You think there’s going to be an uprising?” asked Edward suddenly. 

“Oui. I have heard whispers. I was not thinking when I sent them to mon Amour. Requiem has a particular amount of power, and his loyalty would be invaluable. He is one of the few who can resist Belle Morte now after he broke away. She killed his lover, she did not realize what she had caused with him. Primo is another. It is why I wanted him in our grasp. A soldier that we may need. He is distasteful, but the Dragon is, if anything, very ambitious.” 

“Are you saying you want to free yourself from the council altogether?” Harry had been quiet this whole time letting Micah snuggle against him. He could feel his Nimir-Raj’s beast. It had been so devastated. Harry wanted to assure him that it was nothing he did. It was just something he, as a person, had to do.

“It may come to that,” said Jean-Claude. “I want to live, mon Amour. You gave me that chance. People are coming to me, other Masters in America, they are asking me if they can audition for a new council. They are looking to me to walk ahead of them, to be the stronger one, and to say no to the council because we already have. In New Mexico, I made a slight remark to keep you all safe from her particular brand. I said that I may be looking into a new power structure, and I was interested in her helping at some point. I did not say council or any of the like, but you can imagine she took this opportunity for more power, and she seized it.”

“Gathering power isn’t what went wrong here. It was a lack of communication in planning.” Micah growled out. 

“Not just in planning, Micah. We haven’t been very good at communicating. I know some of that is my fault. I’m not experienced in relationships like all of you. I don’t know how this is supposed to work with one, let alone three. Ignoring all of the others who have been added on recently.” Harry leaned harder against Micah and allowed his beast to tentatively brush against Micah’s. “I did come to an understanding tonight about how the ardeur collects strength and power, and in rare instances when we need it, and if the four of us agree, it’ll be fine! But I don’t… I don’t want to be in the position I was in last night. If it had just been Damian, even though I really don’t want to use him as food, I would have done it. Damian is mine after all, and he needed me to chase his fear away. But, strangers, no!”

“If the Little Raven says no, he means no,” said Edward. 

“Oui.”

Micah tilted his head. “Aren’t you forgetting someone in all this?” 

“What do you mean?” Harry asked. 

“Marcus.” 

Harry sighed. “I love Marcus, and he needs me. But I don’t need him, Micah.” 

“I do not understand, I thought you and Marcus were getting along?” Jean-Claude queried coming down to sit on the arm of the chair. Edward was sitting on the footstool that had been dragged from the corner. He was right in front of Harry. 

“We do get along and the sex is great. I adore Marcus, and I recognize that he needs me. But, there is a difference. He is not us. If Marcus stayed in Florida for the rest of the year, I honestly would not care because I don’t need him. Not like I need you three, it would kill me if one of you decided to leave. I mean, it nearly did when you went off on your own Micah. When I thought Edward was in a relationship with Donna. It broke my heart in two, and I didn’t want to even be alive anymore,” he confessed. “I was so devastated, but I don’t feel any of that with Marcus. He needs me in the way I need you guys. I didn’t mind having Jason as my pomme because he kind of thinks on the same wavelength as me in that regard. He knows who I belong to. It’s why I can’t touch Nathaniel. He’ll become attached and expect me to feel the same when I can’t. I once told Edward that it does not matter if you love me or not, or if you even cared about me. All that mattered was how I felt about you. It won’t change anything.” 

“I did not realize we had fallen so far from communication,” said Jean-Claude sorrowfully. “I had not realized it.” 

“I don’t think any one of us did,” said Edward. 

“I sort of knew we had, in Philly I sort of lost it,” Micah admitted. “I took my frustration out on Harry.” 

“I thought you would understand when I brought two of the strongest vampires to you, mon Amour. I did not realize how you would see it, that we are taking advantage of them. I did not see it in that way.” 

“You need to tell me when you have these things planned.” 

“All of us,” said Micah. “I mean, I get that Baby needs a pomme. We can’t be everywhere all the time. But, I’d rather it either be a one time thing or as Harry put it, someone trustworthy enough like Jason to know it’s fun and nothing more.” 

“Don’t forget that we did say all four of us had to agree on the person.” Edward pointed out. 

“Oui. It is just hard, I must admit. Our powers are growing exponentially. I am requiring more feeding than I normally need. I think it may be that mon Amour’s and my power combining, and enhancing the need. I start to feel as though I am newly awoken to the ardeur. It can cause real head issues, is that the term for it?” 

“Close enough,” Micah grunted. “Why haven’t we gotten the ardeur? Not that I’m arguing about it. It’s hard enough with two of you.” 

Harry cocked his head. “That brings me to the question, Edward, how did you nullify it?” 

“Not entirely sure,” Edward admitted. “Just wanted to stop you from coming out of your skin, Little Raven. I doubt you wanted to jump the Sergeant.” 

“What do you mean nullify?” Jean-Claude asked. 

“When you gave me my ardeur back, it hit me like a truck. I was almost rolling on the floor when Zeze was in here, but then Edward touched me, and it was like something separated me from the ardeur. All the effects died down.” 

“Has it returned?” 

“No.” 

“Hm.” Jean-Claude was very intrigued now. “Interesting.” 

“I’ve heard of psychic nulls before, but ardeur nulls?” Micah queried. 

“I’m not really surprised when I think about it. Edward can’t be pushed if he doesn’t want to be.” 

“Correct.” 

“But he’s fed the ardeur before? If he could nullify it, why is it showing up now?” Harry asked.

“May I ask what you feel when our ardeur releases?” Jean-Claude directed at Edward. 

Edward was quiet for some time as he thought the question through. “Like I want to steal it from you,” he answered honestly. “I don’t like your power over me, so I want to take it.” 

“So you hate it?” Harry asked sadly. 

“Not exactly. It’s a challenge, Little Raven. Like a mark, see how far I can go before it consumes me. To see if it gets me first or I it. If that makes sense. See if I can push through it, and take it away from you. I admit it’s quite exhilarating. It’s kind of like a chase, is what I am trying to say.”

“You really are a predator,” Micah laughed, and Jean-Claude smiled as he leaned forward. 

“Very intriguing. Maybe you do steal it, mon Tueur d'Ombre, and can turn it into a power of a sorts. A power to shield from it. To stop it. It may be that he has gathered enough to use it at will.” 

“So he would be a situational null?” Harry guessed. “I’m betting this would be way too good to be used all the time.” 

“Oui, everything comes with a price. Perhaps he has to be fed on to collect it? Perhaps being in Guilty Pleasures where I have it so that the ardeur is always raised he is collecting or stealing it bit by bit. It is not surprising that it would happen here. Even now, the ardeur has been raised out there. Just enough to get everyone in the mood.” 

“Or maybe it’s not the ardeur at all,” said Micah thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s just lust. Completely natural lust. He’s in a place brimming with it.” 

“Sounds about the same.” 

“But the feel isn’t,” said Harry. “Lust and the ardeur are actually two separate things. When it hits me, it’s like another creature is in my body.” 

“Oui,” Jean-Claude agreed. “It is why we call it the Incubus.” 

“If it’s a natural lust, it’s like looking at someone but not touching. You don’t need to.” 

“How about stopping the maybe and finding out?” Jean-Claude teased, and all of them looked at him. “Shall we raise it? Mon Amour and mine?”

“Right here?” Harry squeaked. 

“Why not? Or we could move to one of the private rooms if they are not being used.” 

“You know the null thing makes a lot more sense now,” said Harry. “Back when it was the three of us forming that bond we couldn’t touch each other without nearly coming out of our skin. It wasn’t until Edward joined us where it stabilized. He might be a magic null altogether.”

“Hang on Baby, let’s back up a second.” Micah sat up straighter in interest. “Are you suggesting we have make up sex, Jean-Claude?”

“And if I am?” The vampire leaned back while giving Micah a sultry look.

“Then Baby gets to try his new skill on you. I know he hasn’t done it with you yet.” Micah smirked, remembering when Harry denied him orgasm in the plane. 

“We can’t have sex right now! We’re finally communicating!” Harry didn’t want the ardeur to be let loose. He’d prefer it stay tucked away. 

“That’s how relationships work, Baby. You have a fight, check. You communicate and talk it out, check. You have make up sex to show everything is alright.” Micah grinned, pushing his hips against Harry to ensure the Nimir-Ra felt his budding erection. 

“But…”

“He’s not lying, Little Raven.”

“Besides, I really want you to punish Jean-Claude, Baby,” Micah pouted. “He made me cry.” He pressed into Harry’s side. 

Jean-Claude made a noise. “I am sorry, mon Chaton. I will take what you give me.” 

“Thing is, I’m quite calm right now.” 

“Can you pull back whatever you did, Edward?” 

“I don’t know,” said Edward, and before Harry or the others could blink Edward was pinning him to the back of the couch, his hand on Harry’s throat.

Harry looked into Edward’s eyes as an ice cold sort of warmth spread through his belly, and for all of a moment the world disappeared except for Edward. Harry nosed the man’s cheek and softly kissed him as Edward tightened his grip. 

A stir in the air from Jean-Claude and the damning creature that had been so nicely tucked away came rising to the surface, and his body became super charged with sensitivity that the pain of Edward’s grip gave him focus. 

All he could feel was Edward’s hand on his neck, tongue diving slow and deep to meet the hunger. He’d never felt Edward move so slow, and it stirred more than the ardeur. It got his magic and beasts surfacing, all the things inside of him. It was like that time in New Mexico, but at the same time different. Edward wanted to steal his will, steal his breath, and Harry let him. He barely noticed Micah shifting to lick along his chin, travelling from Edward’s fingers to their joined lips. Harry definitely didn’t notice when they all removed the clothing barriers, as caught up in the kiss as he was. He raised one hand to Edward’s chest, palm covering the moon while his fingers splayed over the raven. Harry loved tracing the tattoo Edward got to show Harry owned him. 

Jean-Claude raised his ardeur and let it fly through the room, Micah moaned, and Edward growled as he pushed his way further into Harry. Edward reached out beside Harry to grab Jean-Claude and put him and Harry together on the couch as he shifted attention to Micah. 

Jean-Claude was not often surprised, but Edward had that way about him to cause his breath to catch and his pulse to speed up. Harry could feel it. 

“Forgive me, mon Amour.” Jean-Claude whispered as he mouthed at Harry’s collar bone. 

“I do, Jean.” Harry leaned his head back when Jean-Claude dropped a kiss to his pulse point before sinking his fangs in. With glazed eyes, Harry watched as Edward and Micah made out next to him on the couch. Merlin, he loved watching his men together. Edward was staunchly dominant, but Jean-Claude and Micah rarely had issues bottoming when the situation called for it. Jean-Claude and Micah both loved it when Edward dominated them most of all. Jean-Claude’s face would flush with such a hunger, and Micah’s beast would stir. He accepted it, wished for it, and he answered to it; like Harry answered to Micah’s beast. 

“Je t’aime, Harry.” Jean-Claude pressed a kiss to Harry’s cheek as he slipped his freshly erect cock inside. They slid smoothly together, neither rushing as they slowly stoked the flame of love they felt for each other. 

“Too slow.” Edward growled behind Jean-Claude as he left Micah. Without warning he shifted both so that Harry lay back to front on top of Micah along the length of the couch and Jean-Claude draped over him, cock still fully erect and sheathed inside of him. “Brace yourself.” Before Harry could understand what Edward meant, Micah thrust his cock inside, pushing in next to Jean-Claude’s. 

“Ahh!” Harry whimpered at the stretch, it had been a while since he had had two of his lovers in him at once like this. No one human could match Micah in size so far, let alone Micah and another. After a few seconds for adjustment, Micah and Jean-Claude both started moving; making sure to press as deeply as they could. Soon both of them created a rhythm that saw Harry always pressed into as the other drew back. 

Harry folded his fingers through Jean-Claude’s long hair, and lapped at his mouth with every smooth thrust that spilled through him. Edward settled behind Jean-Claude, his palms running down the vampire’s smooth pale back. Jean-Claude slowed his movements enough for Edward to get a handle on him, and his midnight eyes turned more vampiric when Edward thrust deep inside of him. 

Jean-Claude writhed on top of Harry as Edward seized control of them all. In and out, the four of them dived and tore at each other. Harry clamping his mouth onto Jean-Claude, and sucking his skin until it turned warm and red, pleasure rode through all of them. Micah and Edward setting the pace with Harry and Jean-Claude sandwiched, and helpless. 

Micah cried out as Harry brought him to orgasm, and the ardeur trapped them all in an endless loop of sweat and sex. Edward growled. “Is this a new thing you’ve learned, Little Raven or is this the Toy?” 

Jean-Claude moaned. “It is all of us… both of us… does it matter, you beast?” 

Edward smirked, and thrust with a roll of his hips making Jean-Claude fall forward onto Harry, offering what he could as Harry bounced along his cock. It was all about rhythm. Positions and weight could be a nightmare. But, all his men knew exactly what to do. Knew exactly the buttons, and the ardeur could feed and suck to it’s heart’s content. Edward at the head, controlling the dynamics, and Harry would feed on him too. 

“Do it, Baby. Deny him,” Micah growled, and Harry managed to extract a hand from wherever it was to glide down Jean-Claude’s beautiful chest. He leaned in and pressed kisses as Micah’s body stilled, and the more kisses he gave the moaning vampire with Edward’s cock shoved deep, the more magic he spilled from his lips, and he wrapped around Jean-Claude’s orgasms, and held it hostage. 

Jean-Claude moaned. “Non! You did not learn…” 

“I did,” Harry growled, climbing up Jean-Claude’s body and sucking on his ear. Micah was half inside of him now as he pulled away from Jean-Claude. “Let’s see how long it takes.” 

“Are you denying him?” 

“Mhmm,” said Harry. 

Edward grinned. “ _ Good. _ Now, play with Alpha, Little Raven, while I continue to punish the hungry Toy.” 

“Hn! You are beasts… all of you!” Jean-Claude’s purrs and whines collided together as he reached a shaky hand back to caress Edward’s hip. “Give me your best…” 

“With pleasure.” And so he turned his back fluidly aware of Jean-Claude spitting French at them as Edward repositioned Jean-Claude, gripped his hair, and slowed the thrusts to a tempo that left tremors. 

Harry mounted Micah, and sat himself down as he dipped and kissed his Nimir-Raj. Their leopards rolling together. Jean-Claude cried out, begging Harry as he pulled on him. 

“Mon Amour!” 

Everyone but Jean-Claude brought each other over and over, but every time Jean-Claude’s orgasms would threaten to spill out whatever hold Harry had on him would intensify, and force it back down repeatedly until he became boneless. 

The ardeur played and fed in the air, but Jean-Claude’s body was full of trembling need. His noises were so loud that it could have overtaken the entire club and it’s pulsing music. Harry was now on his knees, Micah mimicking him from behind. Harry was kissing and sucking Jean-Claude all the way down his chest to the throbbing dripping cock that could not offer him release. Harry didn’t give him time to catch his breath when Edward made a motion inside that had Jean-Claude trying to curl. Instead, he slid his mouth over the uncut cock and swallowed him down. He went as deep as he could, almost bypassing the end of the shaft, and teasing the tip of his tongue at the top of Jean-Claude’s balls. 

It wasn’t that Harry had an endless mouth, but it was that he was practiced. He could now take Micah all the way to the back of his throat.

Harry flexed his throat muscles while gliding his hands down between Jean-Claude’s legs, and firmly squeezing Edward’s firm slapping balls, and enjoyed the loud groans he could get from them. There was barely a hitch in his work when Micah pulled back enough to flip Harry onto his back without dislodging Jean-Claude’s cock.

Jean-Claude by now couldn’t stop shaking, and so finally - finally after so long keeping the control, he released his magic slowly as Edward orgasmed for the fifth or sixth or whatever time. 

Edward pinned Jean-Claude until he was almost flat on top of Harry, smothering him with a cock lodged in his throat. Jean-Claude swallowed Harry’s own erection as he continued to shudder and orgasm for an extra amount of time. 

Harry being in the line of fire was drenched by everyone, and when Edward pulled out Harry sucked the rest of him off in an effort to clean him. Edward held his throat, and emptied the rest of his repeated orgasms. His face flushed, his ice blue eyes narrow, and his mouth curved in that way that signaled unrefined pleasure that would see most humans dying. But, no, Edward was alive. So very alive. So much that Harry could taste the heart-beat in the back of his throat.

And when Edward pulled his slackening cock out, and Jean-Claude inched up over Harry’s body to crawl on top of Micah, he bent down and kissed Harry’s cum soaked mouth. 

“I do love you,” Edward whispered. “All of you somehow. But I will shoot you.” And that was a funny way of putting it. A dam broke and everyone weakly laughed. 

“Yes, you will, and I will devour your soul in return,” Harry murmured with a lick to his chin.


	11. Chapter Eleven

It was a damn thing when even a six hundred year old vampire could hardly move from their escapade. Harry and Jean-Claude were not only intoxicatingly drunk, but boneless. Harry lay over top of Jean-Claude’s glowing damp body. Fingers continued their ministrations as Micah and Edward took charge of the cleanup. Harry could barely manage to conjure a cold washrag. His body was still vibrating and riding with the effects of sex and the ardeur was coiled deep in the pit of his stomach. 

It was satisfied, so satisfied in a way that Harry hadn’t been for some time. Jean-Claude must have felt the same way. 

Harry had pleasant aches in his body, which was unusual these days. He had learned to take a lot and return it back to the sender. His ardeur and the powers he was getting from all his men had made it so that he knew now how to exploit their sexual weakness. He knew where to dig to draw it out. 

“Where’s Primo?” asked Micah as he ran a cold rag through Jean-Claude’s tangled curls. There was enough white caked in it to look almost like dandruff, if the man knew he’d be trying to get out from under Harry. Then again, he probably did know, but he wasn’t about to move. Even for his own vanity. 

“I have sent him to a cross-wired coffin with Jamil to watch over him,” said Jean-Claude.

Edward was the only one back in his clothes, well his leather trousers but still unzipped. Everyone else was happily naked. Harry moaned when Edward pressed a cold rag into Harry’s burning neck. 

“What’s with the British Invasion?” Edward asked. 

“Yeah, I wondered that too,” said Harry trying to tilt his head, but it was too much. So he just let it flop where it wanted, and that ended up being in the crook of Jean-Claude’s arm. 

“Remember when I told you that London was a very transient place?” 

“Yes,” said Micah. 

“What I didn’t tell you was that it was in a never-ending loop of Master battles. London is the home of most of Belle Morte’s vampires. The Master of the City, Dracula went mad.” 

“Dracula, really?” Micah snorted. 

“Oui, every Dracula to date has been executed, and they have always been over London. It may change hands, but the name stays, and at great detriment. It is a curse to be named Dracula. They had tried to use him as the vampire face of the media. The Master of the City of London had been very old. He’d been one of the first vamps that Belle Morte made. Sometimes, the really ancient vampires do not take well to the newfangled ideas. Of course, Dracula wasn’t really Dracula, but the news media didn’t seem to understand that. Problem is the new Dracula didn’t take to that. In fact, he went mad and started slaughtering humans. The council managed to hush it up, but they had to go very quiet. We went on our travels when it was quiet. But, Requiem sent me a message, begging to be taken in. So I agreed, some of them I knew. Most of them wished for peace and quiet. So I offered that to them in return for their strength. All of them could trace their lineage to Belle Morte.” 

“How long did this fight go on?” 

“A hundred years.” 

“How did they cover up that much time?” Edward asked. 

“I can answer that,” said Harry, raising a weak hand. “My world. Belle Morte knew about my world. She feared them. Earthmover also knew and the Traveler. I’m going to guess that in fear of them being exposed to the Muggle world, they helped to cover it up.” 

“Sounds likely,” Jean-Claude hummed. “It was strange, no one ever talked about it. No one ever mentioned wizards and witches with a separate world full of magic. I would guess it would be taboo or a great fear of your kind, mon Amour.” 

“Probably, my world usually ignores things going on unless it draws attention to them, and they only really pay attention to vampires if one or two have real magical abilities, like Sanguini.” 

“Master Sanguini is a wizard?” Jean-Claude queried. 

Harry nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been pen-pals with him for a while now. I met him when he came to my school when I was in sixth year. Nice bloke.” 

“Fascinating!” 

“Before Kingsley took over as Minister of Magic, my world did very little to help non-magicals,” Harry admitted. “They left them to their own devices and wars after they tried to subjugate us. I also believe my world is about to come out of the closet so to say, like America.” 

“That will be interesting,” said Edward. “May be a lot of things to kill in the coming months.” 

Micah couldn’t help but laugh. He crawled across Harry’s now freshened body to lay over top of him and Jean-Claude. 

“Edward, what happened in New Orleans?” Harry asked, tilting his head. 

“You know our fellow hunter Denis-Luc St. John?” 

“Yeah.” 

“He is in the hospital, intensive care. He survived a pack of vampires having gone rogue, the vampires left over a dozen bodies behind, and the Feds were not pleased that their only Federal Marshall was nearly exsanguinated.” 

Harry rolled out from the middle at this to sit up properly. “How many?” 

“At least seven marks I could see, Denis is unconscious so I couldn’t ask him. But the bodies that were fresh enough to check out showed at least seven, possibly more. He was hoping that since I cross borders I could track them.” 

“Do you have measurements?” 

“Why?” 

“I think they’re here. Female strippers are coming up dead, drained of their blood. At least seven, maybe more vampires are involved. Dolph told me that it felt serial. I don’t know if he was blowing smoke or not with the way he’s acting lately, but I can’t discount it. He is a good detective.” 

Edward rose, and shuffled to the jacket that draped over the desk. He held out a piece of paper, and Harry took it. “Only three match.” 

“They could be destroyed before they move on,” said Jean-Claude logically. “Some masters enjoy simply creating young monsters, releasing them, and then using them to throw away. It is very common in the old circles to do exactly that. Loyalty is a newfangled concept to some.” 

“Four of the victims were dancers, three more were prostitutes. Most spent time around the fourth quarter. I managed to get a hold of the Master of the City, he told me that there’s been a crime wave in four different states aside from New Orleans. For a Master he seemed mediocre, though I would never underestimate anyone. But it seemed like there was something missing or maybe he’s something I wasn’t counting on.” Edward seemed troubled that he couldn’t seem to pinpoint him. “Something was off, but something was familiar.” 

Jean-Claude nodded. “Oui. You would be right, mon Tueur d'Ombre, the only reason he is Master of the City is because of their love for him. He is a peaceful vampire. His talent lies in calming those with his music or inciting a number of emotions. Everything in his music. He has the most beautiful and enchanting voice anyone has ever heard. A fine pianist and his voice is next to none. Belle Morte had tried to claim him for her own many times, but she has never been successful. He has always managed to fall out of reach. No one really knows what line he hails from, but he is quiet. He only ever sings and plays his music, and is somehow able to evade most of the vampire council to the point they even forget about him existing. He has the most tight knit community I’ve ever seen. I always admired him for his skills. He has given me a lot of hints over the years. He was never a fan of Nikolaos, and he thought that I could be one of the few that would let the world see part of us for what we are rather than what we have to eat to survive.” He reached out and stroked Edward’s wrist. 

“That reminds me of that one vampire bloke in the magical world,” said Harry as Micah licked his cheek to taste the salt. “His name was Lorcan something.” 

“Lorcan d’Eath?” Jean-Claude supplied, and Harry nodded. 

“Yeah. He went to Hogwarts.” 

Edward sank down on the footstool. “You’re saying the Master of New Orleans is a wizard vampire? Huh. Interesting.” 

“How old is he?” asked Jean-Claude. “No one knows how old he is or where he hails.” 

“Uhm, I think if I remember correctly he went to Hogwarts sometime in the sixties. You can ask Draco for more information if you like. When I was younger I wasn’t in the world long enough to really understand their ‘pop’ culture before I was tossed away to the dogs again.” 

“That’s a baby vampire,” Micah pointed out. 

“He is that young, and yet houses that kind of power?” Jean-Claude let out a breath. “Magical vampires… interesting. If he can cast the magics that you can, it would be perfectly reasonable that he could evade Belle Morte and the others’ scrutiny by hiding in plain sight or just fleeing to your magical world. It would make sense because he asks after you all the time when we communicate. He’s always telling me to take extra care. I always thought maybe he had a human servant once, but now I’m wondering if it is because of who you are, mon Amour. I always make sure to know who our neighbors tend to be. We do not need another Serephina on our hands.”

“Speaking of shows, did you really give Zeze a front table for the show?” Harry asked. 

“Jason and Nathaniel insisted.” Micah shrugged. “It was easy to place a reserved tent on the table before people returned to their seats.”

“You should rescue your Sergeant before Jason corrupts him, Little Raven.” Edward pulled Harry from the floor. “Best get dressed first.” It didn’t take them long to shimmy back into their clothes from earlier. Jean-Claude did disappear into his office bathroom to work on his hair but he waved the others out to the show. 

“He should get the plug next,” Harry exclaimed with a huff. 

“That can be arranged,” Edward smirked. 

“Oi, I have a city to run.” Jean-Claude’s voice trailed out of the bathroom. 

“And I have clients to meet and crimes to solve, so?” Harry smiled. “I think he’d look better with a fox tail.” 

Micah tilted his head. “You know what a fox tail is now?” 

“Blame Zane.” 

“I still prefer you stuffed and plugged most.” Micah whispered in Harry’s ear as he wrapped an arm around his waist and led him out. Edward closed the door and followed behind. “With my cock is obviously the best choice, but a plug will do just as well.” He timed it perfectly so that Harry’s face blushed red just as they exited the hallway into the club proper. The music pumped and pulsed a fast rotating beat that got the heart jumping into throats. Harry could taste the lust and desire in the room. It was like entering a sauna of lust if that made any sense. 

It seemed that the club and it’s patrons forgot all about the Primo incident, and were more than enjoying themselves. Buzz was at the front, and toward the back Harry could see two security guards, and he thought he saw Bobby Lee or part of him along the back hall. 

The three of them wove their way through the crowds to the stage where Stephen was currently dancing. It wasn’t hard to find Jason and Zerbrowski’s table. Both were seated at the table Jean-Claude loved to sit Harry at the few times he came to the club. Harry sank into the seat to Zerbrowski’s right, Micah grabbed the seat on Jason’s left, and Edward perched himself on the arm of Harry’s seat. Likely blocking the view of the table behind them but he had made sure to grab a jacket with  _ Guilty Pleasures _ scrawled along the back to look like someone from the club. No customer would dare complain about anyone in an official employee jacket. 

“Enjoying yourself, Zeze?”

“Harry!” Zerbrowski’s eyes were round with shock and a permanent flush had taken up residence on his cheeks. “So many of these people I recognize! Why did I have to learn what they looked like with few pieces of clothing? How am I supposed to look at them in the eye next?”

“He hasn’t seen you up there yet has he?” Harry looked across at Jason. 

“Nope. I’m not on tonight. Brandon is on later.” Jason grinned as he pushed a bottle of water closer to Zerbrowski. “Don’t forget to drink and breathe.” Jason must have signaled Stephen as his fellow wolf shifted from the stage to their table, leaning down to run a hand through Zerbrowski’s hair before dropping to the table top. He shifted around the table, making sure that the rest of the crowd could see the show. Stephen, without showing favoritism or inviting others to touch, quickly greeted Harry, Micah, and Edward before moving back to the stage to finish his dance. Stephen moved as beautifully as he always did, his body rolling to show perfectly toned muscles, his long blond hair folding around him in curls. He sank down on a woman’s lap nearby causing her to let out a squeal as she seemed to vibrate. 

Harry was almost positive she’d just had an orgasm. He could taste her and everyone’s lust as her neighbor friend dared to touch his hair. Stephen leaned over and brushed her cheek with his nose before removing himself. All Zerbrowski could do was stare. 

“This is fun and a job to them. You’ll look them in the eye just as easily as you do me.” Harry patted Zerbrowski on the shoulder as Edward shifted a hand to trace the tattoo on Harry’s neck. “Also, a fun fact about lycanthropes, their sex drive is very high. So unlike some strip-clubs where it’s all about the money, this club it’s not.” 

“How do I explain to Katie where I’ve been? I was sure of my sexuality but this...even I’m getting hot under the collar.”

“You can always bring her with you to a show.” Jason suggested. “We often see couples in here together.”

“What?” Zerbrowski tore his eyes from the stage as Stephen finished to blink at Jason in confusion. 

“Her birthday is coming up, isn’t it?” Micah asked. “Bring her to a show, Jean-Claude will reserve a good table for you two for free.”

Before the conversation could continue, Harry felt a buzz in his pocket. He shifted against Edward and pulled out his phone; it was the office. With a frown, Harry set up a bubble of silence around their table and answered the phone. 

“Hello?”

_ “Harry, it’s Craig. Your 9 o’clock client just called asking where you’re at.” _

“Shit! Lost track of time, sorry Craig. I’ll be there soon.” Harry hung up the phone and shifted up from the seat. “Sorry gents, but work calls.”

“Late, Baby? We’ll take you.” Micah and Edward stood from their seats.

“I should be getting home to Katie as well.” Zerbrowski mumbled.

“But you haven’t seen the really fun sets yet! The night is still young Zeze.” Jason whined. By now the early crowd was trying to catch their breaths. Lovely waiters came by with fresh ice water and alcoholic drinks on trays. Most were half naked with only a thong and they would brush up against the more heated patrons’ shoulders causing most of them to stare right at their crotches, and then in reflex they would fork over their money for the drinks. 

Yeah, business was good, and the tips even better. 

“I’m afraid to go for ice water,” Zerbrowski murmured as Harry reached around Edward, brushing his knuckles along one of the dancer’s sides, and he turned and smiled at Harry. 

“Thank you,” Harry said, dropping a couple bills, and passing the ice water to Zerbrowski. 

“We’ll get you home Zeze, if you don’t mind a stop or two for my day job. Jason, keep the table we’ll come back when done tonight.” Harry promised the pouty were. 

“Alright!” Jason fist pumped the air. “I’ll let Jean-Claude know.”

“You don’t really have to tip or pay do you?” 

“No, but it’s fun, and they keep everything they make in tips. No exceptions,” said Harry as Micah got him an ice water, and he drank his own down. 

“You mean most clubs take part of their tips?” asked Zerbrowski. 

“That’s the usual way, yes. Owner or manager of the night gets like fifteen percent, and the bouncers get another ten and by the time some of the dancers leave they’ve barely got half their tips.” 

“That sounds like extortion.” 

“Legal extortion,” Edward supplied. 

“Still, they earned it.” 

“Yes, yes they do,” Harry said, casting a gaze around the room. He was more comfortable here than he was before. Before he’d have lit up like a Christmas tree, but now he was comfortable, the air of lust and the warmth that cascaded over his skin. 

He wanted to blame Jean-Claude for turning him into a pervert. 

Speaking of, the lovely vampire had stepped out of the office, and the women were following him with their eyes, and a fair few men. 

“Finished?” Edward drawled. “We need to go, Little Raven here keeps forgetting about appointments.” 

“Oui, but might I borrow you, mon Chaton, for a bit?” Jean-Claude smirked. 

Micah arched an eyebrow. “Oh?” Jean-Claude leaned over and whispered something making Micah grin. “Huh… I like it. Okay. Edward looks like you’re on your own with him.” 

“What’s going on?” asked Harry. 

“Nothing, mon Amour. You go and do your job.” Jean-Claude pulled Harry into a velvety kiss, and ran his fingers along Harry’s wild hair. “And return for more fun, the night is young after all. You too, Sergeant. You are more than welcome here, and if you bring your lovely wife I’ll be sure to show her the best hospitality.” He kissed Edward too, making a few of the women nearby sigh or sulk or just flat out stare. 

“I’m sure she’d enjoy it,” said Zerbrowski, trying to come off cool and calm, but the flush on his cheeks sort of ruined the act, but at least he was better at it than Harry. “But now I have to explain why I enjoyed it. That’s going to be an interesting conversation.” He rocked on his heels, and Harry imagined if he was wearing a trenchcoat, he’d have his hands tucked in his pockets as if trying to hide his nerves. 

Jason laughed. “She sounds like she rocks. You need to bring her here.” 

“She does,” Harry and Zerbrowski said at the same time. 

The Sergeant looked as though he was mulling it over. “I would need a baby-sitter.” 

“Hermione is available, or Draco, or a hundred others at my house. You never know they could all spend the night with Teddy or Teddy there.” 

“We have baby-sitters for days. All carefully selected and background checked first,” said Edward with a sharp nod. “Only the most trustworthy for Teddy and Peter.”

“Peter?”

“A new stray we got last fall.”

“Edward’s stray this time, not mine.” Harry pointed out. “But I feed him.” 

Instead of going out the back they all went out the front, Buzz hugging Harry on the way out, and thanking him for his interference. Harry was still suspicious about what Jean-Claude had planned and he saw Micah was being dragged off with Jason toward the backstage area, reserved sign left on the table. 

Oh no. What were they planning? “Did you hear them?” he asked Edward nervously. 

“No.” He too was eyeing Jean-Claude curiously, the coy smile he’d given them held a promise of something. What it was neither of them knew. 

“I’m worried.” 

Edward smirked. “You should be knowing how the Toy wants to make things up to you. But, first you need to focus, Little Raven. A job awaits.” 

“Right, raisings. I’m late. I’m always late. I feel like that rabbit from that one movie Teddy likes. What is it again?”

“Alice in Wonderland,” Edward answered. “He made me sit through it.  _ Four times _ .” Zerbrowski laughed outright. 

Harry snickered into his hand. Only Teddy could get away with that. Kid was bloody brilliant. “Yeah, that one.” And Harry thought that maybe that was the reason for taking Peter rabbit hunting earlier in the year. 

“How do you still have that job if you’re often late?” Zerbrowski asked with a grin.

“I own the building and am the highest in demand Animator in the United States. It lets me get away with a lot,” he said proudly. “Most will bend over backwards for me.” 

If Edward was anyone else he would have laughed or coughed while laughing. Instead, he just smirked, eyes empty, face forward. Harry rubbed his arm into the man’s chest as though he could hear his comment. ‘ _ More like you bend over for us. _ ’ 

“So I get to see what you do tonight? I’ve never seen a raising. Is it as scary as they say?” 

“I don’t think so,” said Harry. “I don’t use half the tools most use anymore. My raising kit is down to a single steel knife. So you probably won’t see the traditional way they’re raised. It’s rather boring for the watchers I think. I mean, you can’t really feel what’s happening unless you’re sensitive to the magic. It’s not like the films and stuff.” 

“Not to mention they don’t look like zombies,” said Edward. Bright neon lights lit up the street, Harry walked between both men at a comfortable pace. Edward had his non-dominant arm around Harry, carefully scanning the droves of people that were moving about in singles, couples, and groups. Almost all of them were dressed for the night. Some having only arrived.

“Let’s hope I don’t get attacked anymore,” he muttered with a shake of his head. 

Edward’s crowd watching eyes dropped down to look at Harry. “Attacked?” 

Harry huffed. “I got attacked by a client today.” 

Zerbrowski’s eyes widened. “Is that normal?” 

“Every rare once in a while, but it hasn’t happened in a long time since we became a firm with partners, and I can choose my own clients. But every now and then…” Harry shook his head. “Bert manages to come up with some cock and bull scheme, and it’s usually me involved because I’m the highest paid, and all initial meeting costs goes into firm’s ‘bank’ for everyone. It’s a nice idea until the highest paid one gets taken advantage of.” 

Zerbrowski whistled. “Sounds almost criminal.” 

“Borderline,” Harry confessed. 

“What happened?” asked Edward. 

“A couple came in, their son and his girlfriend were murdered three years ago. A violent one, and they wanted me to raise him to ask questions.” 

Edward didn’t react, but he was already thinking of Philly. Harry didn’t have to be in his mind to know. 

“What’s wrong with that?” Zerbrowski asked. 

“Murdered zombies are uncontrollable. I can’t raise one, especially one that has been so violently murdered. I did that in Philly when I didn’t have the information on hand, and had no idea I was raising a murdered zombie. He went straight for his murderer. No turning or looking back. It was all he could do. Meanwhile, I ended up knocked out in the process. So they had an errant zombie and no one to control it.” Until Edward, but he didn’t say that out loud. 

“Like an animalistic vampire rising?” Zerbrowski was obviously recalling what happened that time at the hospital when Cal Rupert awoke after a violent death. 

“Exactly.” 

“I need my notebook,” said Zerbrowski. “I’ve learned so much tonight. Just walking up and down the strip.” 

“Anyway, Bert knew I couldn’t do it. But he sent them to me anyway all because they offered way more than my already high fees are. Least to say that did not end well when I told them in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t raising anything for them. I tried to be nice about it, I was going to offer to check in with the police and even refund their money. I understood their pain, until they attacked me. She clawed me, he hit me with a metal portfolio! Bloody thing hurt!” He didn’t mention that he almost lost control and ripped their throats out. Probably best not until Zerbrowski wasn’t there. 

“Did you press charges?” Zerbrowski asked. 

“No. I sent them packing. I may have threatened it though.” 

It didn’t take long to arrive at the massive packed parking lot of the Circus, the clowns were flickering bright colors, and the sign glimmered neon red as the sound of laughter could be heard trickling out of the massive two story warehouse. 

Zerbrowski smiled when he saw Harry had a reserved parking spot specially for him, sign and all. In fact, there were three spots. His Lexus was sitting in one, and Edward’s Hummer was in the other. “Hey, haven’t seen that in a while, I thought you got rid of it?” 

“Nope, my boys drive it.” He tossed Edward the keys. “I believe Stephen had it tonight. Once upon a time most of them weren’t very independent. Still have trouble tying their own shoes without permission, but it’s a lot further than where it was. Everyone has their license at least, and can drive.” 

“Where are we going, Little Raven?” 

“Sunset Cemetery.” Harry said as he climbed through the driver’s side and scooted down the bench far enough for Edward to climb in behind him as the driver. Zerbrowski slid into the back.

“Are you okay using your own blood?” 

“Yes, last time I used chicken blood because it was requested, but I prefer to use mine,” said Harry casually. “I’ve practiced and managed to level the power out so that I’m only raising one, and not everyone.” 

“Everyone?” Zerbrowski asked, leaning over the back of the front seat. 

“Like a muscle, my powers grow the more I use them.” That wasn’t entirely true, but it was the easiest explanation. “Sometimes there’s a learning curve if you get a sudden influx of that magic and power. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said I’m probably the most powerful in the United States. Might be one of the most powerful in the world if not  _ the _ . The only one I know that might be equal or stronger would be Blake, but she’s long since disappeared.” 

“Ah, yes. She just up and quit one day, right?” Zerbrowski asked. 

“Yep.” 

“I’ve met her, but by that time I had my student. I didn’t need anymore,” said Edward. 

“Oh, right, Harry was your student,” said Zerbrowski. 

“Yes.” 

“Can I ask why he calls you Edward?” 

“I am Edward.” 

“But you are Ted.”

“It’s like Zerbrowski instead of  _ Igor _ ,” Harry said causing Zerbrowski to squeak and blush. 

“Harry! I thought I swore you to secrecy!” 

“My condolences,” Edward said, causing Zerbrowski to hang his head between his arms which stayed propped on the back rest. 

“I wish I could pick a new name.” 

Harry snickered as he leaned against Edward’s side as the man got them headed in the direction of the cemetery. “You’re an adult, just go get it legally changed.”

“I wish I could, but my parents would kill me. Is your name shortened for anything?” 

“Nope, and thank Merlin it’s not. It’s just an easy and simple name, though I do get irritated when the bad guys share my name. It’s confusing,” he said thinking of Harold Gaynor and that bartender. It was also a bit embarrassing. 

Sunset Cemetery was a nice combination of old and new. Big monuments of praying and weeping angels combined with flat modern headstones. It was a place for the rich and famous to be buried, and Edwin Alonzo Herman fit that bill to a T. 

He was part of a famous local brewery known as the Busches. He had been a very important man, and his monument showed that he thought so too. It loomed up into the darkness like some winged giant. There was enough light to see that the huge angel had a sword and shield. 

There were more than a dozen people waiting at the paved road, most of them lawyers, though with enough family members to have nearly caused a fistfight when Harry introduced himself and briefly explained what he would be doing. 

He wasn’t using any chickens this time around as one, he had no time to get them as he had forgotten about his appointments with all the Primo and then other bits of drama going on, and two when people saw a large and sharp jeweled dagger it tended to make them nervous. Harry once had a wealthy man try and shoot him when he drew it out. It was a good thing that Edward hadn’t been there that night otherwise the wealthy man would have been dead before he hit the ground. 

It was a warm enough night that no one needed a coat, but most were wearing suit jackets; except for Harry who looked rather odd in his bright red tight jeans. Harry’d had to change his thong, there simply hadn’t been enough left for him to keep it after two separate sexcapades. Even with magic Harry didn’t want to put the filthy thing back on. So he had borrowed one of Jean-Claude’s. Harry had never worn a fur thong before, Edward seemed to like it though, and had taken to staring at it without an expression on his face. 

Yeah. He loved his men so very much. 

When the lawyers demanded to know who the men with him were, Harry replied. “Law enforcement.” That had effectively stopped any more questions when Zerbrowski and Edward showed their badges. 

“I’ve stood over fighting lawyers before, and I don’t want to be in the middle of it. Let me do my job, and then we can all go home.” 

They didn’t like it, and Harry didn’t care. When people needed a hundred years worth of zombie raised, it was a seller’s market, and Harry was the seller. As he told Zerbrowski, there were two other animators in the United States that could do it. One in California and the one in New Orleans, but they weren’t here, and Harry was. Besides, plane fare and hotels cost quite a bit. 

So the lawyers shut up. Although there was an elderly woman on the side of the family that inherited the money that wanted to leave, as she was insulted that Harry thought her people would attack him, she still stayed. It seemed money was more important to them. 

Harry could feel the breath of the dead coasting over his skin, each step he took he’d lowered his shields enough to let the spirits in, and slowly one by one they began to gather. It was cool and seeking, the magic flew beneath the ground beneath his feet and brushed across the bones and dust of everything in the vicinity. 

Harry’s power naturally drew toward Edward who remained with his arms clasped behind his back beside Zerbrowski. Edward’s power was a grounding sort of power. It kept him on track and allowed him to spread his magic out without fear of calling things to him. 

Harry drew his dagger as the magic swirled, and he sliced the palm of his left hand until it began to bubble and flow. The magic intensified it’s flow and Harry began to walk a circle, and all of them could see it trickling out. Quicker than was natural, and it seemed to suspend in the air as Harry formed a complete circle, and then stood in front of the grave. 

“Edwin Alonzo Herman, hear me and come to me,” Harry stabbed the dagger into the ground, and the earth turned and moved with his powers. He could feel the long since dead man’s bones grow long and straight, felt the flesh coalesce around him, and he took hold of the hand that clasped into his bloody hand. Harry embraced the magic, and for a single moment and heart-beat it was like his life flashed before his eyes. Memories and pictures streamed passed like an aged film strip. From his birth to the first Death to his childhood and into his formative years, and teenage years. He saw how he was shaped and how he was turned from the Dementors to the graveyard where Voldemort returned to life. How each of the Hallows he collected as his own began to slowly shape him. How the cloak shielded him from natural deaths, and how he saw Draco standing atop of the Astronomy Tower disarming the Headmaster, Snape killing him. Then finally Harry in the Malfoy Manor, disarming Draco where he won the right to fight for Death. Finally the ring that came out of his mouth from within a golden snitch tied him to the living while also becoming a Master of Death, and for only a moment all those memories pushed away and Harry found him in a void of darkness walking beside something that had no shape or form. It was a black endless void of nothingness. It was neither male nor female. 

It simply was an existence. 

As the world came back into full focus with the starlight streaming into the cemetery, the earth felt warm and cool at the same time. He churned the dagger until the earth began to fold. He could feel all the other dead around him stir as if they too wanted to come to the surface, but he whispered a mental  _ no _ , told them to remain in their beds. 

Edwin Alonzo Herman’s hand wrapped firmer around his, and he pulled like a rope. The grave swooped him upward like a flower, and when Harry stood he felt Edward’s chest at his back. As if he were a block of stone. 

Harry hadn’t noticed or felt him move, hadn’t heard Zerbrowski letting out a breath or the entire cemetery shaking slightly with a rumble. It was colder than it should be for June. 

The dead man was pulled perfect and whole, and he stood on top of the open ground as the dirt fell away from his broad shoulders like magic, and perhaps it was since Harry’s hand was clasped in his. 

He wore a perfect black suit that looked as though it had been pressed only hours before. His hair was balding with a thick fringe just above his ears and down the collar, and thick sideburns curved to a walrus thick mustache. He was portly and his skin looked even better than Emmett Leroy Rose. He looked flushed, whole, and unmarred. His eyes sparked with a life in him. He had a faint smile on his face. Even his shoes were nearly spotless and gleaming with polish. 

Harry brought his bloody palm to Edwin’s lips, and perfect human feeling lips clasped hold and drank Harry’s blood. He clasped Harry’s arm with both his hands, and drank deep. His skin got warmer, more healthy and flushed. 

“Enough,” Harry pushed the magic into his voice. 

Edwin released, and slowly sat Harry’s arm down as gentle as though he were holding a baby. “Thank you, what will you command of me, Master?” His voice was calm. 

“I wish you to answer these lawyers.” He stepped back and presented the zombie who looked very much human. 

“He’s alive!” 

“He’s not a zombie!” 

“How?” 

Harry resisted rolling his eyes, instead, he chose for professionalism as Edward turned in perfect sync with him. “You get what you pay for.” Bert would be proud. 

Harry stepped away to let the lawyers do their thing, and Zerbrowski was blinking and cleaning his glasses. “Is that real? Of course it is, but what was that I felt?” Edward was right behind him. 

“You felt that?” 

“We all felt it,” said Edward tilting his head. “Everyone in the graveyard, it shook.” 

Harry grimaced at this. “Oops, normally people can’t feel it. They just see it happen.” 

“Another power spike? I saw a few images pass by,” he said carefully. 

Harry craned his neck back, not that Edward was excessively tall like some of the men around, but he wanted to look properly at the man’s blank face. “Like a film strip?” 

“Yes. I believe the others saw it too. Your entire life in five seconds or less. Intriguing. I think I’m beginning to understand something, Little Raven.” 

“If you understand something, mind letting me in on it?” 

“Not now, Little Raven.” He brought his hand around and caressed down Harry’s cheek.

Zerbrowski seemed lost in the conversation, but also knew instinctively that it wasn’t a conversation for him. He knew quite well how couples tended to think like each other or read each other’s minds. Of course, he wouldn’t think this was really possible like between Harry, Edward, Jean-Claude, and Micah. But it was. 

“What you felt, Zerbrowski was Death Magic. Some of my power.” 

“Startling,” Zerbrowski breathed. “He doesn’t look like he’s dead. He looks like he’s ready to taste test wine.” 

“You’re quite on the mark. He was one of the founders of Busches brewery.” 

Zerbrowski grinned. “Cool! I think I can see why you are expensive. I can imagine the requests you get.” Harry made a noise. “What was the most preposterous?” he asked eagerly. 

“Marilyn Monroe,” Harry grumbled with a cross of his arms. 

Zerbrowski threw his head back and laughed. “Gods, I shouldn’t laugh. That’s horrible.” 

“Yes,” said Harry with a tight smile. “But if you don’t laugh, the horrible things get to you.” 

“Yes,” Zerbrowski agreed. “Most bizarre?” 

“Someone wanted me to raise Lizzie Borden once, offered me ten million to do it.” 

Edward turned to look at Harry. “You mean the one who killed her parents with an axe?” 

“Yep, but back then that would have been impossible without a human sacrifice. So yeah, no, and no one has any idea if how she died was true or false. I do not want to be responsible if she had gotten loose.” 

Zerbrowski grinned. “I’d love to be a fly on your wall during those meetings.”

“But, Zeze if you were a fly, I’d swat you!” 

“So worth it.” 

“Another would be Abraham Lincoln,” said Harry knowing that would interest Edward.

“Does a murder victim count if the murderer is dead?” Edward asked. “What about execution government style?” 

“I don’t know about the already dead murderer, but execution style via government would still count as murder because the Dead doesn’t really see halves or righteousness.” 

“So, in theory if you believe in Death, what kind of criteria would you have to decide whether you would be punished or not? Is there punishment?” Zerbrowski asked logically. 

“There is punishment. First of all, life is punishment enough for us all, but then there’s how you die. It can be easy or it can be hard,” said Harry emphatically. “Only a few things can mar the soul to the point where Death will intervene with a punishment.” 

“Wow, you really believe Death is an entity like God?” Zerbrowski asked. “What about you, Edward?” 

“After tonight? Yes,” said Edward flatly. “I believe it.” 

Harry wondered if Edward saw the black void at the end of his memories. It took a lot of reminders to the living that Edwin was dead, they wanted to take him home with them. He looked too alive to go back into the ground, one of the granddaughters feared that he would be buried alive. 

Harry had to remind them that Edwin was dead, and nothing would truly bring him back. He turned to Edwin, swiped some blood across his mouth, and instead of using salt simply told him to go back home. 

Edwin stroked Harry’s cheek before falling slowly back into the earth that began to rumble again, the blanket of dirt and grass looked like a zipper, and Harry waited in the still silence until Edwin returned to his original bone fragmented state. He re-walked the circle counterclockwise with his blood to bring it down. 

He shivered as dozens of spirits rushed him at once as if to greet him. He went still as they flew around him, some touched his hair, some touched his face, and his clothes. Harry did not move an inch. Not that he was scared or anything, but if he noticed them he had a feeling he’d be there all night.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies readers! Forgot to post the chapter yesterday. :( So you will get 2 in a row. :) 
> 
> Enjoy the fun at the end.  
> -Kimpatsu

“I have one last question for the learning human. If you don’t mind,” said Zerbrowski grinning. He was now in the front seat beside Harry who was in the middle. Harry had coaxed him into the front because turning his head around to look behind him at Zerbrowski was tiring. He also wanted to be closer to Edward after that display of magic, and having him so nearby. 

Harry had canceled the rest of his clients for the night. He might have lied and mentioned he had a concussion. He wasn’t in the mood for anymore raisings. They could all wait a couple of days. 

“Ask away, Zeze,” said Harry snuggling up against Edward’s side. It was coming upon eleven o’ clock, the lawyers had asked questions for what felt like hours before they were satisfied. 

“That redhead vampire, why did he call you master?” 

Harry hadn’t expected Zerbrowski to ask that question of all of them. He glanced once at Edward, trying to gauge whether he should tell the truth or something else. Edward revealed nothing, meaning it probably didn’t matter. “Well, it just so happens through a series of unfortunate events, I accidentally bound Damian to me as my vampire servant.” 

“That’s possible?” 

“I didn’t know it was until I did it,” said Harry guiltily. “You see, the difference between a master vampire and a vampire is more than age and strength. A normal vampire has to be blood oathed to someone stronger or they wither and die with age or lose their minds, whichever comes first. Damian is old. He’s over a thousand years old, but he is not a master. He’s only had one master his whole vampire life, and she was… about as bad as you could imagine. He sought asylum with Jean-Claude who blood oathed him originally. But, as my powers grew, I started being able to command younger vampires.” 

“Like the ones in that fire?” Zerbrowski realized. 

“Yeah, it happened by accident one night. I raised my powers while too close during my sleep. It rose Damian and a few other vampires from the dead as if they were zombies.” 

“Oh...” 

“Yeah, and so to put them down I gave him my blood, but that wasn’t the only instance. Another series of circumstances saw him dying. He was stabbed through the heart, and I helped Jean-Claude keep his soul from departing. My blood got transferred into him, directly into his heart and soul. It bound us together. I am his master. Damian lives through me now.” 

“So, this isn’t common?” 

“No. Your average animator couldn’t do it. No one has ever been able to do it as far as I know.” 

“You said it was an accident?” 

“Yeah, some accident, hm?” 

“I’ll say!” Zerbrowski was thoughtful. “I must admit, I was not expecting much when I came out to the district tonight. Not sure if I expected anything to be honest. But I’ve learned a lot. I still can’t make heads or tails of it, but I think I understand where Dolph did not.” 

“I’m not asking you to embrace them. I never would do such a thing, but I do ask for a little open mindedness. To realize that everyone has a monster in them. It’s your choices that make all the difference. I know we see a lot of horror, and it can get to anyone. But so do other detectives who are on serial killer human crimes, they see just as much horror, the only difference is the tools used to get that horror.” 

“You’re right,” Zerbrowski agreed. 

“I would never make an excuse for any species. I’m as neutral as I could be, but I will tell you if I thought for one moment Jean-Claud was truly evil like his fountainhead or some of the ones we’ve met, I would have already executed him long ago.” 

“You can really say that?” Zerbrowski was shocked. “I can see how much you love him. Hell, I can see how much you love all of them. Micah and Edward and Jean-Claude. It’s the way I look at Katie!” 

“Yes, because I would have to. I’m not morally righteous, Zerbrowski. But I like to think I’m on the balanced side. Just enough of each to see both sides, the good, the bad, and the ugly.” 

“Good movie.” Edward and Zerbrowski said, causing Harry to burst out laughing. 

“Edward, I’ve made several John Wayne references, and you were never there to hear them. You’d have been so proud of me,” he sulked. 

Edward smirked as they hit a street filled with fast food restaurants and the like. “I’m sure I would, Little Raven. Where do you want to eat?” 

“Hm?” 

“You need to eat. You’ve used up a lot of energy. I will not have you starving. Choose or I’ll choose.” 

Harry had forgotten about eating. He hadn’t eaten since about two or three that afternoon. “ _ Uhm _ .” He leaned forward and looked at all the glowing signs. Harry’s stomach turned at the idea of Taco Bell, and so he pointed at a chicken place that had a drive-thru that was still open. “I hate Taco Bell.” 

“Hey!” Zerbrowski exclaimed. “It’s a staple!” 

Harry made a face. “Yuck.” He ended up with the tenders, and Zerbrowski kept trying to snag his wedges. Edward warned him off the sweet tea as it was excessive and he wouldn’t like it, so he went with a Sprite instead. “How’s your car looking these days, Zeze?” 

Zerbrowski grinned. “Like a junkyard,” he said proudly. 

Harry shuddered as he tore apart his strip and nibbled on the white meat. It tasted good even if it was greasy. He ate easily with the tray leveled on his knee. Edward had been right. He had needed food, and hadn’t realized it. 

It was almost midnight by the time they returned to the Riverfront. Zerbrowski had parked in one of the carparks on the other side of the district so Edward drove him to the outside as he had to get going back to Katie. 

“You owe Nathaniel,” Harry teased. 

Zerbrowski grinned. “I’ll bring Katie next time.” 

“Good. I think she’ll enjoy it.” 

“Probably too much. But who knows? Maybe I’ll get lucky.” He grinned and slipped out leaving Harry to shake his head. 

“You think it was wise telling him so much?” 

“I think we told him just enough,” said Harry as Edward turned around and headed toward the Circus. “He could be a help or a hindrance. I prefer help. I don’t want to see someone I really like going the way Dolph did.” 

“Your powers are gaining strength, Little Raven. I saw your entire life in my head. It puts things into perspective, things you’ve spoken about but I did not have the picture. I noticed the memories seem to focus on three distinct items. I recognized the cloak, ring, and your wand.” 

“The Deathly Hallows.” Harry reached into his shirt and pulled out the chain with his thumb. 

“Interesting, Death is an entity. It has no shape or form, but I saw it. I know what I saw.” 

“I only ever follow my instincts in everything I do. Even if I don’t understand it myself because I’ve learned that my instincts will never fail me. It’s why I wanted you to kill me.” 

Edward shook his head. “I don’t want to be in that situation.” 

“I don’t want you to be either. But I think if I got too much, you are the only one who can stop me. You’re the only one I can trust to stop it. Jean-Claude would excuse my actions, Micah would too. But you, Edward, wouldn’t excuse anything.” 

“Why do you think I can stop you?” 

“You’re Edward. Of course you can.” 

“You have faith in me. I don’t know why.” He turned into the Circus slowly, careful not to hit a couple of groups that were walking the parking lot. 

Harry ran his hand beneath Edward’s shirt to his chest, enjoying the warmth of his skin and muscle. He brushed along the tattoo. Edward glared straight ahead, and when he parked he pulled Harry flush to his body and kissed him hard. 

Edward kept a grip on him back to Guilty Pleasures, something seemed to be rolling around in his mind. Harry curiously wondered what it happened to be. 

Clay was at the front door checking ID’s, but he wasn’t doing a very good job. Currently he had a gaggle of young women surrounding him, and a redhead blatantly trying to seduce him into letting her in, and it was working. 

Harry saw that he was about to give into them, and swiftly slipped around them to look up at Clay. He cleared his voice gently. 

Clay squeaked, having not noticed Harry. “Lupa…” 

“You better check their IDs,” Harry said, causing him to flush in the cheeks. 

“They’re over twenty-one.” 

“Did you see their ID?” 

“Well, Maria said her friend had left her ID at home. I know Maria.” 

Harry shook his head. “No ID, no admittance, no exceptions.” 

“But, I’m a regular! You can take my word for it, and who are you even?” the woman named Maria pouted. 

“ID or leave,” said Harry simply. 

Edward chose that moment to step in close to Harry, and immediately the women huffed and backed away. “ID at all times, Clay,” Harry ordered. 

“Yes of course, apologies, Lupa!” He ducked his head. 

“Let’s not give anyone a reason to try and give us legal trouble for such a dumb mistake, okay? Regular visitor or not. Those with valid ID and over 21 can come in. If this group wants their friend in with them they can return home and pick up the ID and return. Otherwise she doesn’t get in tonight.” He rubbed up the wolf’s muscular arms. He kissed Clay on the cheek, and he and Edward slipped into the entrance bypassing the holy item check girl. 

“Surprised Buzz isn’t here,” said Harry thoughtfully looking around. “Something new happen?” 

“Doesn’t feel like it,” said Edward scanning the room, the music was pumping and Harry saw Stephen and Gregory together on stage, the crowd of women and various gay men, and even couples were losing grip with reality as the two rolled themselves over a young couple in the middle of the crowd, and then seamlessly switching from place to place. 

Harry could taste the lust, he didn’t have to smell it anymore. It was salty with a hint of spice, and the alcohol was flowing with most women out of their chairs and leaning forward, cash closed in their fists in a desperate attempt to call one of them over. When the boys hugged each other that tipped the scales. Yeah, twins were popular as hell. 

“Can you tell them apart?” Edward wondered, looking the crowd over. 

“Mm, from here? No,” Harry laughed. “But if I got closer I could get a feel for them. The leopards are more mine than the wolves, like I feel they’re mine in a more intimate way than the wolves. What about you?” It was probably because the leopards were so small in number. It was impossible to get close to hundreds of werewolves. He tried, but he just couldn’t spread himself that far. 

Edward’s eyes narrowed. “Kitten is in purple.” 

“I think you’re the only one in this club that has noticed he even has anything on. So glad the father has been dealt with,” said Harry only to yelp when a hand glided up and down the middle of his back. 

“Lupa, you’re needed backstage,” Graham was standing there towering over Harry like some exotic Eurasian demi-God or something. He was smirking at Harry, his green eyes glittering. He was a soft mocha skinned man with rather interesting eyes that could be closer to a cat than a wolf, they were also a heavy brown. His hair trailed down his back in a winding braid. He looked a bit more oily than Harry remembered when he was outside at security. 

“Backstage? What for?” 

“Stop asking questions and go find out,” Edward smirked. “I’ll take a seat and wait. Oh and Graham, when you’re finished with Little Raven better find Buzz or next in charge and have them remind everyone on entry rules.” 

Harry made a noise as Graham wrapped an arm around him and moved him with such ease through the throngs of half naked waiters and gaggles of patrons. Almost all of them were screaming to the point that Harry was surprised the shifters ears weren’t ringing. 

He was taken toward the very back where a wererat guard was standing in front of a double set of doors. Harry recognized him as one who helped lay his gravel, but he couldn’t remember his name. 

“They’re waiting on you,” said the guard with a grin that had Harry suspicious. 

“They?” Harry tried to fight Graham off, only for the man to get a good grip. 

“Come on now, Lupa. You can’t leave the master waiting. He has something special planned.” 

“Now I’m scared.” Harry deadpanned. 

Graham had wrapped around Harry from behind to keep him from escaping by a well timed wiggle. Harry was good at escaping, and he had a feeling he should be trying harder. Harry was guided down a small hall with a fleet of dressing room doors, and at the end was a larger room where acts that required multiple dancers would prepare. It also doubled as a costume and makeup room. 

He was very suspicious when he saw only Jean-Claude standing in the middle, his face was carefully blank, but his eyes were sparkling. 

“Jean…” 

“Mon Amour, welcome back.” Graham smoothly pushed Harry right into Jean-Claude, and that was when someone else came up behind him, and placed a silk blindfold over his eyes. 

“Oi, wait, no!” Harry squawked only to feel Jean-Claude’s fingers graze his cheeks and lift his chin for a soft sultry kiss. “ _ Hnmph _ !” His pulse began to race as all he saw was black, and Jean-Claude’s rose scented perfume filled his senses. He could hear footsteps and movements, but he could see nothing. 

“Be a good mon Amour, and stay put,” Jean-Claude purred, running his lips to Harry’s ear, making him shiver. 

“But-” Fingers touched his lips, and he went quiet; his skin prickling and warming when hands began to pull at him, careful not to touch him too long so he couldn’t tell who they belonged to. His clothes were ripped from his frame in well practiced movements. “What are you-? You can’t-” 

“Ssh!” 

“Play along,” said Micah from somewhere nearby. 

“Micah?” 

“Just do it, Baby.” 

Harry grumbled. “I don’t want to go on stage, I can’t dance!” 

“We’re not asking you to dance,” said Micah, and his voice was soft and practical, giving him no hint as to what was about to happen. 

“But you do have to be your best,” said Jean-Claude. “Yes, that one. I had it specially tailored. Let’s wash him down.” 

Harry was manhandled by strong arms, gently but firmly. No one said a word except for Micah’s calming voice. “Edward?” 

“He’s going to watch the show.” 

Harry was taken into a room that smelled damp, and his feet were on tile. A clean soap scent tickled under his nose, and he was maneuvered under something and tried not to squeal when water sprayed out over him and hands began to lather him up. 

“Can I at least know who is touching me?” 

“Figure it out,” said Micah’s distant voice. 

“Well it’s not you,” Harry sulked. 

It didn’t take long, more sprays of heated water and he was being pulled and wrapped in a fluffy towel to dry. 

“Let me clothe him,” said Micah. 

“Awe, I really wanted to,” and Harry realized that it was Seth’s voice. 

“Seth?” 

“Master.” Fingers brushed down his back and lips pressed to his cheek. “It was an honor to wash you.” 

Harry let out a noise of distress, and series of snickers in the room had him nervous. “First give me that stuff.” 

Harry’s body was soon rubbed down with some sort of lotion from his head to his toe making his skin feel slick and strange. He kept trying to wriggle only for strong hands to hold his shoulders steady. He ended up pressed to Micah as he was dressed. A soft fur lined thong, and then a pair of silky feeling pants. A clink of chains and something in the distance, and his arms were wrapped in something along with his waist. 

“He’s small, they’re going to love him, they always love the thin ones,” said a voice in the distance that Harry couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

“It’s going to be a fun night. I’ve always wanted to touch him.” 

Harry made a noise. “Wh-?” 

“Let’s not give too much away or his reactions will be spoiled on just us,” said Jason’s playful voice. 

“Jason!” 

“Hey Lupa, looking pretty there.” 

“Uhm… you know, I don’t think this is something that I’m going to be good at… let me just…” he tried to flee only to yelp when he realized that there were chains around his ankles that connected. “Oi!” 

“Don’t move,” Micah caught his elbow. 

“Can I at least have names?” Harry bargained in a soft plea. 

“Only if you can figure them out yourself.” 

“That’s not fair!” Harry pouted. 

“Ooh, that’s a good look,” Jason said, and he could just feel the younger man smiling. 

Something was placed on his head, a series of linked chains. “His hair is so messy, sticking up everywhere, this is going to stand out.”

“Nathaniel?” Harry reached for his wrist. 

“Hello, Nimir-Ra. How are you feeling?” 

“Nervous.” 

“Remember to breathe, no need to be nervous. We’ve all wanted to do this for a very long time.” 

“Do what?” 

Before they could answer, Harry felt Jean-Claude returning. “All you boys get to your places, I’ll take it from here. Let’s not let him see you yet.” He clapped his hands together softly, and Harry was suddenly alone; afraid to walk due to tripping. 

“Jean… what are you planning?” 

“My own way of apologizing to you, mon Amour.” Jean-Claude’s fingers grazed his jaw and his lips were kissed. 

“Can I at least see myself?” 

“Oui, but we wanted you to not argue, and dressing has to be fast so we thought blindfolding would be safest until we were through. Come, come!” 

“How do I walk?” Hands took hold of his naked shoulders, and he slowly moved through the room, and Jean-Claude began to untie the fold. Harry’s eyes widened when he saw his reflection in the large mirror. 

He was in a pair of nearly see through white harem pants that tied at the waist with a gold sash, and looped around his stomach, arms, and throat were silver and gold chains. Including silver in his hair. His skin had been rubbed with some sort of lotion that made his pale skin glow beneath the lights with a bit of shimmer and with his eyes and hair it was quite a contrast. He was barefoot and the chains at his ankles were wide enough for him to take small steps, but not big. 

Jean-Claude was smiling from behind him. “You look lovely.” 

“I…” Harry had no words. He thought he looked silly, and when Jean-Claude turned him, Harry’s face flooded red when he saw that his thong could be seen from the back if you got close enough. “You’re kidding? I can’t dance, Jean!” 

“You are not dancing. You are merely the guest of honor, and I think you look ravishing. Like some angel.” His fingers teased through Harry’s wild black hair causing it to become even more wild as Jean-Claude kissed at his ear. “I love you, mon Amour, I am so sorry… you would have really let Edward kill you?” 

“Yes,” said Harry. “Jean, let me ask you. Do you want me as I am now or do you want someone as monstrous as Voldemort or Belle Morte or the Earthmover? Do you want me to turn into that? Do you think you can handle that?” 

Jean-Claude bowed his head. “Non, but…” 

“If I start breaking the few boundaries I have there will come a time when I don’t have a boundary. Nothing will have a line that I won’t cross. I won’t even need a reason, not to mention I’ve slept in your memories for months and weeks. I’ve walked through them, the way you were raped and taken advantage of repeatedly all because of your ardeur and looks.  _ Never _ . I will never do that.” Harry turned and looked up at Jean-Claude. 

He noted that Jean-Claude looked almost tearful, his hands were shaking slightly. 

“But you are mon Amour. You would never-” 

“But I recognize that I have something in me that can go foul if I’m not careful. Like you vampires have your own demons. So do I. I have one that lives in me, that’s a part of my soul. I have to recognize that, and not let him consume me. I understand you did what you had to, but you need to understand that I have to do what I have to. My greatest fear is that I can’t die, and that one day my mind will be so far gone, and all I’ll have is power… a power that could devastate. I asked Edward if he would kill me should it ever come to that because I don’t think I can die normally. I’d rather die as I am, than live as a monster.” 

“Oh mon Amour, I am truly sorry. I love you so much,” Jean-Claude kissed him on the forehead. 

“If you need me to use the ardeur for seduction or some other powerplay, you have to tell me.  _ Please _ . Just tell me what you want and what you need. I promise I won’t take it wrong if you tell me what’s going on at all times.” 

“Oui, I promise on my life, mon Amour, that from here on you will always be aware of everything. Now, why don’t we get you in position?” He smiled and took the blindfold brushing his fingers along the silk seductively. Harry eyed it with a small frown. “This way you won’t see the crowd so soon, and get a fright. You will be too into the dance to bother with them.” Harry was guided toward a red draped opening, and his nerves began to dance all around him as he heard the crowd cheering and calling out for more, the music had gone down low. His heart was beating into his throat. “Are you ready?” 

“If I say no, can I turn around and go back?” 

“Non. Trust me, you will enjoy this.” And with that Jean-Claude placed the blindfold over his eyes. “I do believe mon Tueur d’Ombre will enjoy this show.” 

“...” Harry chose not to speak when he felt the curtain parting, and he was guided out. 

Somehow he knew that the stage was completely black because there were no shadows creating vague shapes, and he was guided to something that was raised up. It was cool to touch and felt almost like marble. He was directed silently to lay on his back by Jean-Claude before his ankle chains were removed. Guess they didn’t actually need them for the show. 

“Am I on a tombstone?” Harry whispered. 

“Close enough.” He was kissed on the forehead, and then left all alone except for the crowd way too close for comfort. To say he was terrified was a bit of an understatement. 

Harry tried not to show frustration, you know an apology could have come in the form of more sex or something, or even a private show via Jean-Claude and his men.  _ Not this _ . Harry was a simple bloke with simple tastes. 

But, his vampire sweetie was anything but simple. 

Something sweet and spicy began to permeate in the air, and the sound of a hushing like fabric washed across the entirety of the club, and even though he was blinded, he could feel the bright lights pop on to half of the stage. 

“Now I know many of you regulars and new guests are expecting Brandon to come on next and do his set.” The crowd cheered. “He is a lovely dancer, and he will be on to sate your desires. But we have a bit of a special treat tonight for those truly hungry. Something new. Something that will see many of your favorites and new dancers working together with their lovely bodies to provide for your needs. Enjoy this feast, that is offered up as sacrifice to that hunger.” As soon as he uttered the last syllable the rest of the stage lights popped on, highlighting Harry’s body.

Harry felt Jean-Claude’s powers of lust build slowly, and he took in a sharp breath as it wrapped around each member of the audience including himself. It tightened with a pulse of heat that blossomed in the pit of his stomach, and the air pressure became heavy and cloying. 

Most of the cheers and screams had died down, and Harry could hear their hearts beating fast, anticipation, they were all getting something special tonight. Something that they would never get anywhere else. 

“Now, let’s sate your appetite and raise it high. Presenting our sacrifice for the night, he is fresh and innocent, do you want to watch him be devoured?” 

The noise went beyond loud, and Harry felt his body slowly revolving, and he realized he was on a dais that moved. It was a slow movement, and fingers danced up his arm causing him to shiver. 

“I warn you, this may get… a  _ bit _ overwhelming to you humans. You see, we monsters of the night are rather carnivorous, and such delicacies in our grasp is only worthy of our attention, perhaps one day you can be that delicacy?” A series of moans in the crowd swelled as Jean-Claude’s fingers danced up and down Harry’s skin causing it to prickle with goosebumps. “Shall I introduce him? Do you really want to know what delicacy I have laying here so innocent?” Harry thought if they got any louder, the room would explode. He could not be that fascinating. Jean-Claude laughed seductively. “Then allow me to present Raven for the first time. He is my delicacy, and none of you save one can touch…” Jean-Claude reached up and ripped the blindfold causing a brilliant flood of white light to sear into his eyes, and then the color of the lights changed to a deep true red before turning emerald green, and then white again. 

He barely saw the crowd as Jean-Claude leaned down and curved a mouth around his neck. Nearly everyone was standing, and Harry quickly searched out the crowd to find the only person who could calm him down, and he found him. Ice blue eyes. 

Fuck, the look of empty intent on his face was too much, and as the pulse of energy raised through the room the music followed. Jean-Claude was gone in a wave of shadows, and the sound of drums masked the footsteps of a series of men who came dancing out in perfect formation. 

They were wearing thin pieces of leopard skins around their waist like a loincloth along with soft matching hoods with triangular cat ears that trailed down like a cloak. 

Each one of them circled him like prey, moving their bodies in perfect synchronization, their fingers brushing him, and each muscle on their body was highlighted with specific hip movements and rolls that set the crowd off.

Harry gasped when hands started at his feet, removed the chain, and began to climb up his legs that were parted on the slab of stone, and he saw that it was Nathaniel, his long auburn hair trailed down one side of the altar in a long winding braid. One of the men ripped the hood from him, and the crowd went spastic. 

Harry gulped when Nathaniel began to caress up his thighs, and the sheer feeling of the harem parents against his skin did not help as it seemed to draw in the heat and friction. He could hardly make out the other men dancing and rolling around him as Nathaniel straddled him, and two men reached over to rip the loincloth from Nathaniel’s hard waist revealing nothing but a creme colored thong as it was pressed right into Harry’s face. 

Nathaniel began to dance and grind, running his crotch up and down Harry’s face and chest to the drawl of the crowd. His muscles glistened with sweat and he rubbed himself all over Harry, and he dipped down and began to lick his face from his chin to his mouth and around to his cheek and ear. Harry shivered, and felt his own arousal burn through him. 

Nathaniel’s moves were seamless, and he braced himself with his hands on each side of Harry’s head, and began to do push ups on Harry’s body making their crotches and chests connect, and every time he came down he tilted his head enough to look as if he was going to bite Harry before he would turn to face the crowd instead. Harry only knew where the crowd was based on which direction Nathaniel faced as the altar he was on continued to slowly rotate. 

He raised Harry’s head, gave him a lusty kiss, and then he jerked him by the hair back down. Harry’s neck twisted and he gasped when Seth who had been dancing at Harry’s side shoved his crotch right into Harry’s face. His fingers digging into his raven hair, and Nathaniel continued to dance up and down his body before seamlessly rolling off, and dancing into the crowd only to be replaced by Jason. 

Hot. Harry was too hot. His skin was once again on fire, and Jason did not help matters as he moved like a preying wolf, climbing up Harry’s frame one hand in front of the other, and his shoulders moving with in a heavy way, and Jason licked and bit at the harem pants as if trying to tug them off. He ran his tongue flat along Harry’s belly at the very edge and began to run the length of Harry’s body, but before he could get to the top where their mouths would meet Jason was grabbed by a pair of muscled arms, that Harry didn’t remember being in his group of weres, thrust him off to the cheers of the crowd. 

Harry watched curiously as Jason went into a perfect writhing roll, landing on the floor near a group of women, and he used them to sexually climb on top of one to dance on her lap, much to her orgasmic pleasure. Seth had done the same to a young hopeful looking guy in the crowd. Harry could feel their lust being sucked up by his ardeur without him calling for it to raise.  _ Does this mean I won’t have to feed for a while? Is this how Jean is able to feed daily? _

By this time Harry was moaning softly when the strong arms gripped him tightly, he was pulled from the altar to stare right into the eyes of Buzz who looked ferocious and was facing the crowd.  _ Fuck! _ He always knew the man was more muscle than he’d ever seen, but this was… delicious. Harry admitted. He was huge compared to Harry, his muscles bulged and glistened, his body was perfect. Not an inch of give or fat anywhere. 

When he was turned over onto the altar, Harry tried to crawl off only for Buzz to grab him by the hips and rip his harem pants off his body. He then forced Harry flat and crawled on top. His hands fisting and kneading into his hair. Harry’s eyes rolled at the sensations that rolled through his body. Buzz bit down on his neck and trailed down his spine causing him to arch up on instinct. He pushed his arse back until he was on his hands and knees again. Buzz slapped him hard causing him to yelp that had the crowd going, and then Buzz pushed his covered cock right up against Harry’s thong and grinding into Harry with such a power that it left him gasping and whining. He didn’t care for the crowd any longer, and just looked back at Buzz’s hulking frame rolling against him. Harry wriggled experimentally and Buzz pulled him up by hair as the altar rotated enough that they were facing the crowd headon. Buzz’s strength was enough to bring Harry’s back pressed to the bulging muscles of his chest in one smooth move. Buzz bit down gently on Harry’s neck. Of course, he wasn’t drawing blood, but he nibbled and kissed as Harry shivered, and ran a palm down Buzz’s slick meaty thigh. As the haze of desire and sexual hunger flowed from his body someone jumped onto the altar like a great cat. 

It was Micah, and his lovely sun-kissed body dripped with salty sweat that looked too good to let go to waste, and as their bodies pushed together Harry leaned in and sucked the top of his chest, licking the salt as both men sandwiched him, and began to grind their bodies into him. 

_ Hot. So Hot. It was too hot, _ both men rubbed and rolled, teased and licked, and Micah covered Harry’s mouth and growled into his throat making Harry’s beast rear up. He pushed Micah away on instinct, and Micah grinned as he slid off the altar, and Harry turned fluidly around and raked himself against Buzz, gliding all the way down his body toward the blood red thong. He licked the muscles and teased around his thighs and hips. Buzz continued his body thrusts making those big muscles ripple when Micah returned and forced Harry onto his back, and began to grind himself in Harry’s face. 

It was like sex without the intercourse, and Harry could do sex even without the intercourse. His body naturally moving before he could stop it. He was flipped from one to the other; dry fucked and danced upon. Harry writhed back against them using his own hips and rotation to roll into Buzz who held his thigh in place so that he didn’t fall. Micah would rake down him from behind. Harry found himself pulled away by Jason before being recaptured by Buzz. He licked the sweat from Buzz’s chest when Micah pulled him away once more. 

Harry’s beast enjoyed the chase, the fight. It enjoyed pushing at Micah and making him angry. It enjoyed getting his blood boiling. He continued to repeat this cycle, teasing at the other men, and whenever Micah tried to claim him he would push him down to the ground on his knees. 

He could hear Jean-Claude over the airways. “ _ Looks like someone doesn’t want to be a sacrifice, whatever will we do? How will we get your desires sated if he is not a sacrifice?” _ He purred as Harry and Jason moved their bodies together near one of the tables that had women trying to reach out and touch them. Harry rolled free before he could be touched and moved back towards the altar.

Now it was Harry’s turn, he brushed a hand down Buzz’s arm, motioned toward Micah. Micah was forced on the altar flat on his back and Harry, with Buzz’s help, mounted him. 

Harry pushed his powers silently into Micah causing the man to writhe and thrust his hips up with a hiss. “Baby…” he breathed. 

Harry grinned and danced up and down his body rocking his hips and rotating them along his crotch. He smirked into the crowd as the altar rotated back to face them which really got them going, and he folded over top of Micah and licked the Alpha’s mouth. Nathaniel joined him on the altar from behind, pulling Harry and sucking at his skin, rubbing their bodies together until the sweat dripped off them, and then Harry sneakily slithered away leaving Nathaniel and Micah. 

“Coy little sacrifice, looks like he knows how to get away… but oh…” Jean-Claude’s voice trailed like velvet as Seth and Jason grabbed Harry from each side by the arms and they began to pull him in a specific direction. 

Harry knew where they were going, but he tried to fight them off, playing with them only for Jason and Seth to slide him forward over a circular table right in front of Edward who reached out, pulled him to the edge of the table, and fisted his black hair. Harry let out a ragged sigh, his energy and arousal too high. 

“Gotcha,  _ Little _ Raven,” He growled, pulling him closer for a kiss as the crowd went wild, and something happened on stage before the music died and everything went black.

“ _ Looks like the Raven has been captured. You’ll have to come back again to see what happens _ .”

“Over my dead body,” Harry hissed as he flopped onto his back on the table, feet braced on either side of Edward’s hips. Edward raked a hand down his naked chest and through all the sweat he had gathered. He looped a finger into the thong and snapped it against Harry’s hip making him whimper. 

“That’s quite relative here, Little Raven,” he said faintly amused. “You should do it again.” He palmed Harry’s pulsing hard erection, and then slid Harry off the table onto his lap. “You’re quite sweaty.” 

“Uh huh…” Harry kissed him hotly ignoring the sweltering crowd around them in the dark. “I’ll only do it if you’re here to watch,” Harry acquiesced because he couldn’t say no to Edward. Micah and the boys were right. 

“Naturally.” As if Edward heard his thoughts. Yeah, he was doomed. “You going to explode on me, Little Raven?” 

“Maybe…” Harry rotated his hips over Edward’s lap. His eyes rolled when he felt Edward was hard and thick.

“Tsk. Dirty.” He encouraged Harry’s ministration, palms on his ass and fisting a meaty chunk of it. He kissed Harry slowly to the motion of his rotating hips, and the taste of his tongue, the friction of his covered cock brought him to a silently shaking orgasm right there in the middle of Guilty Pleasures. 

“That’s my Little Raven, but next time you’re going to lick it up.” 

“Mhmm.” Harry shivered when Edward sank his hands into Harry’s front to squeeze what was left out of him, and then he shoved his fingers into Harry’s mouth. 

“Can’t see it, but I can sure feel it. Very nice.”


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Harry was picked up and swept away by Buzz to the backstage before the lights returned. He was cradled bridal style, and should be embarrassed by this, but he was already half naked so what did it matter? He barely managed to clean himself magically as he was returned to the dressing room, Jason was excited and cheering. “You’re a natural!” 

“No! Never again!” Harry whined. He clung to Buzz with his arms around his neck. 

“A little touch up, and Nimir-Ra would be a hit,” said Nathaniel smiling. “He’d have his own headline and everything. Need to get him practicing our dances with us.” 

Harry buried his face into Buzz’s chest. He was still trying to catch his breath, and here he had his boys teasing him. “No!” It was all he could say, and everyone laughed as Micah swept over and tapped his feet. 

“Baby, what were you doing pushing your powers in me?” Micah growled. “Right on stage? You’re lucky I didn’t cause an issue with sticking myself in you right there.” Harry pulled back from where he hid his face in Buzz’s large muscled chest and stuck out his tongue childishly. Micah chuckled softly. “Having fun with him in your arms?” 

“Sure,” said Buzz grinning. “He’s like a feather.” He tightened his grip on Harry who had no reason to try and wiggle out of the man’s grip. Nope. No reason at all. 

“I bet you’re not having half as much fun as he is,” Edward said coming through the backroom. “Buzz is the first of that size to manhandle Little Raven after all.” Harry had never seen a vampire blush so hard as Buzz, but he made no move to let go. 

“Did you bring him?” Micah pouted as Edward drew even with him. 

“Of course.”

“Well there goes my idea of fun in the showers.” 

“Shouldn’t have let him go on stage then.” Edward shrugged as Harry flamed up. 

“Can you both stop talking about that?” Harry squeaked out.

“Why? We can all smell you anyways, Lupa. We know that you released on Edward. Don’t be ashamed.” Jason teased. “I’m sure the crowd would be disappointed if they knew that they missed it.”

“It still amazes me how he can blush,” said Nathaniel casually as a staff member came over with a handful of towels and water bottles. 

“I’m right here!” Harry sulked. 

“Are you? I never would have guessed. You’re about to disappear into those big arms,” Micah taunted as he took two bottles and a couple towels since Harry was so preoccupied with his hands. 

“Now who are you teasing?” Buzz grumbled. 

“They’re just envious, Buzz,” said Jean-Claude sweeping through the room. “It’s been awhile since you’ve been on stage with that lovely body.” 

“Yes it has,” Buzz agreed. 

Harry was a bit disappointed when he was sat down on the couch, and those arms went away. Micah dropped down next to him to wipe the sweat off and give him his water. He gulped down the water having not realized how thirsty he’d been. 

“Who is out there? I’m not sure anyone can top what we just did,” said Jason grinning. “I’m sure I smelled at least a dozen orgasms.” 

“Oui, I have Requiem closing out the night.” Jean-Claude swept over and brushed his fingers through Harry’s wet hair. “Did you have fun, mon amour?” 

“Yes,” Harry confessed. “Still embarrassing.” 

“You were enchanting.” 

“Right…” 

Jean-Claude and Micah sighed a bit louder than usual, and Edward crossed his arms. “You think way too little of yourself Little Raven.” 

“I don’t. But… I’m not used to that kind of attention.” 

“You should be,” said Nathaniel curling up on the couch beside him. “You’re our Nimir-Ra. Do you know what you smell like to us?” 

“Or to us wolves. Everyone, even the ones who don’t know you, want to devour you!” 

Harry grumbled, too embarrassed to hear anymore compliments or anyone trying to convince him that he was anything more than okay. Sure, he wasn’t an ugly bloke. But, he wasn’t exactly Nathaniel-esque or Jason-esque. He didn’t have the muscles or the body or the face. He was normal. Just plain ol’ normal. He was okay with that, and didn’t need to be anything else. 

“I’m tired,” he said in hopes one of his men would take him away and out of this weird idea of pointing things out that Harry didn’t understand. 

Before anyone could respond or react to his statement Graham came jogging toward them with a cordless in his hand. “Uhm, Lupa? You have a phone call. He said it was urgent.” 

“Who?” Harry asked. 

“Sergeant Zerbrowski?” 

“Already? We only dropped him off,” Harry extended his hand and took the cordless. “Hey Zeze, what’s up? Miss us already?” 

“I wish I had time,” laughed Zerbrowski. “Not fifteen minutes after we separated I got a call. I’m across the river in Illinois, guess what I’m looking at?” 

“Another dead stripper?” Harry guessed looking over at Edward who leaned forward at this. 

“How’d you guess?” 

“Lucky I suppose. I’ll be there as soon as I-” He looked down at his soak-sweat body. He wasn’t even positive he could walk. “As soon as I clean up.” 

“Well, I’m not going anywhere and neither is the body, but the witnesses are getting restless.” 

“Witnesses?” Harry asked. “We have witnesses?” 

“Witnesses or suspects.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Come down to the Sapphire Club and find out.” 

“The Sapphire? Isn’t that the high end club, the one that calls itself a gentleman’s club?” 

Jean-Claude folded his arms across his chest as though he were unimpressed. “Harry! What would your men say to you going to the competition?” 

“They’d punish me.” Micah smirked at this. “Besides, they wanted to use vampire strippers, and I was the one who went down there and told them to fuck off.” 

“I didn’t know that was part of the job description?” He made it sound like a question. 

“The Church of Eternal Life doesn’t allow its members to strip, or do anything else the church considers morally questionable. So the club needed Jean-Claude’s permission to import vampires from the next territory.”

“I take it he said no?” 

“A big no.” 

Zerbrowski sighed. “Oh hell, just get down here. If you said vampires were supposed to stay away from this place, he isn’t going to be happy.” 

Jean-Claude’s eyes narrowed, everyone could hear him even Edward who was now in Nathaniel’s place to hear better. 

“Just no vamps on stage,” Harry corrected. “Other than that, not our business.” 

“Not on stage, at least not paid.” 

“You said witnesses or suspects, and now you say no vampires paid on stage? Shit, are you sitting on some vampires that were in the audience?” 

“Come and see, but I’d hurry before things get out of hand. Please, for the sake of the case and stuff, don’t bring anyone with you if you can help it. Not yet,” he pleaded and Harry understood why. It would be Zerbrowski answering to Dolph if word got out. 

Edward frowned, not liking the sound of that. Micah didn’t either. “You better promise to have me back in one piece or things are going to get sticky.” 

“I promise.” 

“Can you give me a few extra minutes? I really need cleaned up.” 

“I’ll do my best.”

He hung up, and sighed. “Well, this night is just getting longer.” 

“I’ll get you clothes, mon Amour.” Jean-Claude was already speeding across the room and flicking through the racks of clothing. 

“Nothing revealing!” Harry squawked fearfully. 

“Do not argue, you are in a hurry. Mon Chaton, help mon Amour wash up.” 

Harry grumbled. “I can do it myself,” but as he tried to stand, his legs became boneless and he almost fell. Thankfully, Buzz was right there. 

Micah huffed. “I almost think you do that on purpose.”

Everyone else was snickering, and Buzz looked a bit confused. “Just let me get my legs working.” 

“It is from feeding the ardeur remotely,” said Jean-Claude coming around with clothing in his hands. He handed some clothes to Micah to help Harry and even gave Edward a new shirt. “It can set you off balance the first few times. Just wait a moment. Sometimes, you collect more than lust, including motor control issues.” 

“Whatever that means.” Harry grumbled when he saw that his clothes just had to be black leather trousers with eyelet holes going up the sides, and a tight emerald green sleeveless turtleneck. “You know, I’m going to a crime scene.” It was topped with knee high black boots with silver buckles going up and down. Oh boy. 

“You are also going to the Sapphire. I want you to look your best.” 

“But…” 

“Go!” Jean-Claude snapped his fingers, and Micah laughed at Harry who pouted all the way to the washroom. 

Not ten minutes later, Harry was comfortably in his Escalade, not surprising Edward and Micah were following in the Lexus. It stood out a lot less than Edward’s Hummer. Stephen and Gregory would just have to stay at the Circus that night. 

He’d slipped out the back to avoid anyone recognizing him, and his cheeks were still inflamed by what he’d done not an hour ago. Merlin, if anyone knew he’d been on stage half naked and… Harry shook his head as he played some music on low. Something with a little less beat, and it turned out to be an iPod mix hooked into his radio that Micah and Hermione had put together for him. Mostly consisting of music from U2 and the Beatles with a bit of others thrown in the mix. It was all contemporary and easy to listen to. 

He only played music when he was trying to drown something out, and right now his memory was the one thing that needed drowned. He drove across the border, the Sapphire Club wasn’t too far away. 

Jean-Claude would never trust his vampires in the hands of most humans, not to mention the laws for human clubs were different to the vampire ones. Lobbyist had been crying foul at this, but grandfather laws were very hard to change, and cost more money trying to change it then leaving it as it is. Besides, preternatural now made up a huge part of America’s economy. In fact, it was because of the preternatural that America had managed to stay afloat and not hit a nasty recession that had been threatening many countries. They had given America a unique opportunity. It was one of the things that convinced Harry that the US would never bring them back to being illegals. In fact, one of the six states that had varmint laws had changed because of this. It wasn’t much, but it was a small step in the right direction. 

It was actually kind of nice driving on his own. He loved his men, and all the people in his life, but being fully alone wasn’t something he did often anymore. Micah and Edward were behind him somewhere, and that was more than fine. He expected it after all. But this way, Harry had a chance to think and even relax a bit, especially after tonight’s fun and before that the craziness that had ensued.

The Sapphire Club is a low, wide building that doesn’t look that nice from the outside. To Harry, it didn’t look that different from the other bars and clubs this side of the river. He didn’t fully 

understand why this one was considered a gentlemen’s club and others ‘titty bars’. Jean-Claude said it had something to do with the amount of security, decor, and dress code. Honestly, Harry had zoned out during the explanation. 

As Harry pulled up he had to navigate his way through official and semi-official vehicles in the parking area. There were so many cars that he could barely see the front of the club through the flashing lights and milling people. He shook his head when he noticed the big fire truck and a rescue truck alongside the regular ambulance. What did they think they could do for vampires? What were they expecting? It was weird. 

There was a crowd pressed against the police tape and sawhorse barriers placed around the parking lot. Some of the women looked barely dressed. Harry guessed they were from the nearby clubs. Most dancers arrived at work in street clothes then changed there. So at least some of the women shivering had left work elsewhere to join the gawkers.

It took awhile for Harry to find a place to park that would allow Edward and Micah to be nearby. However, once he parked he had to flash his badge a few times to get the crowd to let him through. Once he got to the barrier the cop on duty took one look at his outfit and tried to turn him away. 

“You won’t be working tonight, buddy. This is a crime scene.” Harry was tempted to remind the man that he was male and didn’t have breasts, but then after the laws had been reversed, a lot of clubs had been admitting both male and female dancers, including ‘titty bars.’ Really, even if Harry was into the dancing scene, he wouldn’t go anywhere with that kind of nickname.

“Actually,” Harry looked for a name on the uniform, “Officer Douglas, I will be working tonight. Sergeant Zerbrowski called me, I’m Federal Marshall Harry Potter-Black.”

Officer Douglas started at the badge like he thought it was from a kid’s cereal box. “No one mentioned the Feds were coming.” 

“Officer, it’s almost three in the morning and it’s already been a long night. I announced myself as a courtesy instead of just pushing past. Please just direct me to Zerbrowski.” Harry flashed the man a smile he didn’t truly feel.

During this time another officer had wandered over. Douglas had him take his place at the barrier and held up the tape for Harry to slide under. “I’ll walk you through.” It was almost like he didn’t trust Harry to not screw with the crime scene.

“Cheers.” Harry mentally scoffed as the Officer quickly strode across the pavement as if he was trying to lose Harry. It wasn’t going to be easy, he was used to keeping up with taller men and supernaturals. Some of the locals must have thought Harry worked there because they started to catcall.

“Hey, Dougie, going to get a piece? Didn’t know you swung that way. No lap dances on company time, Douglas!” There were others, but Harry blocked them out. Nothing else could embarrass him tonight, not after what he just did on stage. Douglas was able to mostly ignore it, but his face was blazing by the time they both got to the main doors. 

Harry followed Douglas through the glass doors into a little entry area that looked like the front of a nice restaurant, complete with a little desk and maitre d. The tall guy standing behind the podium was the same one Harry dealt with the last time he was at the club. He had taken Harry’s name and called on a phone for a ‘hostess’ to escort Harry back through the club. Now he was leaning on the podium, head in his hands, looking ill.

Harry remembered that there were bathrooms off to the left, and a short hallway that led into the club, but from the entry a client really couldn't see into the club. It gave them a last chance to keep out the undesirables, or the underagers, before someone saw breasts. The color scheme wasn’t bad in the muted blues and purples, and if they hadn't had silhouettes of naked women on the walls, it would have looked like a restaurant.

Douglas led Harry past the man without saying anything. Once they reached the actual club, Harry was greeted by a solid bar area to the left; set off to the side to clearly demark the main portion of the club for strippers. The room continued the blue and purple theme with black light and hidden lights to keep the room dark, creating a room of shadows.

As it was a weekend the place had been packed, now it was packed but quiet. The music was turned off, the the DJ’s booth silent. It was so quiet the room seemed wrong. Men and women from the audience were huddled together in one area and dancers were gathered together in another corner with a plainclothes detective. A large man in a uniform matching Officer Douglas’ made his way over to Harry with a notebook and pen. 

"Douglas, what the fuck are you bringing me another stripper for? We were told only girls strip here and we got all the girls that were in the club tonight over there." He motioned with his thumb over his shoulder. "Unless, you saw somethin' outside. Did you, boy, see anything?"

Harry raised his badge to the man. “Federal Marshall Harry Potter-Black. Can I help you sir?”

“I’m Sheriff Melvin Christopher. You sure you’re old enough to be a Fed?” The Sheriff looked Harry up and down. “Damn strippers get younger every year. You legal?”

“You should watch yourself Sheriff. Don’t want a harassment and discrimination lawsuit on your hands. For your information I was on a date when I was called in. Crime doesn’t wait for me to get home and changed.”

His face got a little darker, his eyes went from unfriendly to hostile. "You think you're funny?"

“People keep telling me I am. But let’s cut the small talk and get to why I’m here.”

"We don't need federal help here."

Harry glanced around the room and didn’t see anyone he recognized. “Fine, we can do it the hard way. If you prevent me from questioning all the vampires before dawn, I will charge you with obstructing a Federal Officer on top of the harassment charges.”

"Some of them your friends, that it? I heard you were coffin bait." Harry flashed a grin at the Sheriff and turned to walk away. "Where the hell are you going?"

"To do my job," Harry called back as he turned his back to the men.

"How do you know where they are?"

"They aren't out here, or out in the parking lot, so they've got to be in the Sapphire Room." Harry made his way to the little raised platform in front of a pair of nice wooden doors. The club asking him for Jean’s vampires as performers came in handy as Harry now knew the layout and the most likely locations of the vampires in question. There was another uniformed officer in front of the doors. "Please move aside, Officer." Harry stated as he approached with his badge still in hand.

He actually started to step to the side, but the Sheriff said, "You don't work for him. You move when I say you move." 

Without waiting another moment, Harry sent a series of magic bubbles into the room that would point Zerbrowski to the door. It didn’t take long for the man to open the doors and step out. “Sergeant, do tell the locals to back off and let me do my job. They seem to enjoy ignoring badges.”

The Sheriff was pissed that Harry had written him off so easily, and Zerbrowski turned when he came through the room before the man could get in Harry’s face. “Are you looking for multiple lawsuits?” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

“Your lack of professionalism is going to be your undoing if you keep this up. Step back and let us do our job before you make it worse and slam your asses into a lawsuit for assaulting the patrons of the club.” 

The Sheriff sneered, but did exactly as he was told, shooting a nasty look at Harry in the process. “Didn’t know they took them so young. Guess everyone’s desperate nowadays.” 

“Not more than you are, sweetheart,” Harry beamed, and then turned on his heel to walk away leaving the backwoods police furious, and a couple of waitresses nearby snickering. “What the hell is going on, Ze?” 

“Welcome to the Party.” He opened the door to the VIP section, and Harry’s nose wrinkled. The Sapphire Room was a cross between a hunting lodge, safari room, and other things people think men think is masculine. 

Harry knew this was bollocks, pure and simple. Most of the room was carpeted in a leopard print. It was the in thing this year, and Harry could take a few guesses as to why. “Sorry I wasn’t there to meet you. I was trying to calm down the masses.” 

“Not that I’m not happy you’re keeping those bastards out, but why?” Harry had a lot of go-arounds with backwoods police. More than he cared to deal with, and it had poisoned his opinion on a lot of police departments.  _ Protect and serve _ Harry’s well fucked arse. More like greedy, racist, and generally poisonous men who couldn’t get a job anywhere else except for a place that was much like them. 

_ Yeah _ , Harry was generalizing and being judgmental, but cops like those back there left a nasty aftertaste in his mouth. 

“When we pulled up, they had the vampires in here and were using crosses on them. They didn’t touch them, just made the crosses glow like hell, and basically said, you talk or we keep crosses out.” 

_ Fuck _ . Harry thought in disgust. “Now I understand what you meant by assaulting them.” It had been ruled illegal to use crosses on vampires, and it was now considered assault. “That’s assault. Every vampire here could press charges.” 

“Like I said, welcome to the party.” 

Before the ruling, a lot of police departments had holy items as part of their uniform, lapel pins or tie-tacks, but now they were back to carrying them undercover somewhere on their bodies. Holy items were now considered weapons when dealing with vampires. 

“Was it him or the men too?” 

“Some of them. Before we got here, they were all wearing little cross-shaped lapel pins. I got them to remove them, but only after I threatened to call the closest FBI office.” 

“Good.” 

Zerbrowski nodded. “After the Van Anders debacle we have a good reputation with them, and I’d rather let the FBI take the entire case away from us than let crap like this go down. The vampires are scared shitless now, Harry. If there are any guilty ones here, I can’t tell. Most of them won’t even talk to us, and legally they don’t have to.” Harry could see the tightness around his eyes, and the way his hands were stiffening up. Zerbrowski was usually not a man who got angry very often, but he seemed truly pissed off for a change. “We got a hit from New Orleans and Pittsburgh, very similar crimes. Two in Pittsburgh, five in New Orleans, then they moved here.” 

“Seven.” 

“What?” 

“Edward went down to New Orleans the night Dolph called me about the first body drop. One of our fellow hunters and Federal Marshall managed to catch up to them, Denis-Luc St. John? But, he’s in intensive care. They wanted Edward’s opinion on tracking where they would go next. Also at least three of the measurements match the victims from New Orleans. You should call him for details.” 

Zerbrowski nodded. “I will, now I wish I had asked for him too.” 

“He’s outside somewhere.” 

Zerbrowski snorted. “He can’t leave you alone can he?” 

“No one can.” 

“Understandable, what with your position. But, I was hoping you would talk to them, Harry?” 

Harry nodded. “I’ll do what I can, but I might have to throw the Sheriff and his men under the bus to do it.” 

“I don’t care, throw them under the wheels and let them spin,” said Zerbrowski. “We have about three hours or less until dawn. I could hold them what with our evidence, but…” 

“I gotcha, we have to smooth it over not make it worse. Right now they can only sue this city. Let’s not give them a reason to sue us too. Let’s play good cop, bad cop.” 

“All yours then,” he said, making a sweeping gesture. 

Harry entered the main room to see a group of vampires around the big fireplace in the center of the main room. None of them belonged to Jean-Claude. Some of them were clustered around a table set in front of the fireplace, in huge throne-like chairs, some on a cushioned seat near the fireplace. One of the vampires was clutching an animal print cushion while he sat in front of the fire. His eyes were wide, and he looked shell-shocked. The other five were scared or angry or a mixture of both. 

Everyone looked at him. It was probably a good thing that he wore clothes picked out by Jean-Claude to deal with these witnesses. 

“You don’t look like a cop.” 

“I’m a Federal Marshall,” said Harry. “But, I’m not here to arrest you or any of that. Once Sergeant Zerbrowski heard what happened he called me in. Just to let you know, if you wish to file charges against the Sheriff and his men for assault I would be more than happy to help you get the ball rolling on that. But first, let’s try and get you all out of here as fast as we can, okay?” 

They all looked at him like he had multiple heads on his shoulder. 

“Why can’t we leave now?” asked one of them who stood and straightened a rather conservative suit. 

“You are?” 

“Charles Moffat.” 

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Moffat, my name is Harry Potter-Black.” 

Several in the room gasped at his name, and the cushion hugger raised his head. “You’re the Master of the City’s human servant.” 

“Yes, I am,” said Harry. 

“You’re also a Federal Marshall?” 

“Yes, I am.” 

“So, you are serious when you said we could press charges and you’d help?” 

“Yes, I am,” he repeated. “I work with the law to make sure everyone has a fair shot, no matter what he or she happens to be. Now, I know most of you are from the Church of Eternal Life. I would know my own vampires on sight,” Several of them cringed. “I recognize a lot of you. Good thing I’m not part of that church, Malcolm isn’t too gung-ho about clubs is he?” More cringing and even whimpering. Merlin, and this was from vampires? Yeash, Jean-Claude would throw a fit if his vamps acted this sad and shameful. At least own up to your misdeeds. It gains more respect than not. “It’s okay. I’m not going to tattle on you, but I need to know everything you know about what happened so that this doesn’t happen again. I can’t protect you if I don’t know what’s going on. So please?” 

“How can we trust you?” asked Charles. 

“Normally I’d say you can’t, but I am on your side in this circumstance, so could you please tell me what happened? Please tell me who your feed was tonight?” Charles blushed, and then he glared. “Come on, I can tell which one of you has fed and which hasn’t. I need to know what dancers or donors you fed on. If they’re in the other room, I need to talk to them. If they aren’t, I need names and a way to contact them tonight.” 

“The relationship between a vampire and their partner is sacred.” 

“Yes, until someone is murdered,” he said, “And then we need to know so we can rule you out or do you want us leaving and then coming to the church to get you?” 

Several of the vampires paled in horror at the idea. “Please, you can’t!” The cushion hugger scuttled across the floor to grab his leg. 

“It’s okay. I’d rather not do that either.” He pet the vampire’s hair, and it seemed to calm him. “So, who wants to talk to me and answer my questions so I don’t break the secret by coming in on you when Malcolm is preaching?” 

The bald vampire stood up, Charles yelled at him, but the vampire shook his head.” No, you aren’t my master, Charles. We are all free beings in the church. It’s one of the reasons we joined, so that we didn’t have to take blood oaths.” Harry tried not to pale at this. No blood oaths? “I’m going to answer his questions because it’s within my rights to do so.” 

“Let’s find a private room then. That way your relationship can remain as sacred as I can get it for you.” No blood oath was still circling around his head. Oh no, that was not good. Not good at all. 

Harry offered his hand, and the man took it. Harry led him through to a smoking room if the hint of cigarettes and cigar smoke was anything to go by. Jean-Claude didn’t allow any smoking whatsoever in his clubs. A beautiful saltwater aquarium sat inside of it with a bunch of smaller rooms off of that where one would go for a private dance. 

Harry took the man into the first room. It was quite nice, not tacky in the least with a small couch, chair, coffee table, and area lighting. The room still pulled off that leather and manly den theme without being too obnoxious about it. “Have a seat,” said Harry kindly. 

He sat rubbing his hands over his knees, nervous. He was a bit on the plump side and looked soft. He looked like an accountant or something except that when he licked his lips he flashed a little fang. “How long have you been with the church?” 

“Two years.” He was shaking his head. “I thought it would be sexy you know? Vampires, the clothes, and the romance.” He clasped his hands together. “But it’s not like that at all. I’m still a law clerk, just at a different office where they let me work nights. I can’t drink, can’t eat a steak, and dying didn’t make me sexier.” He spread his hands wide. “Look at me, I’m just paler.” 

Harry sat on the coffee table near the vampire. “I thought the church required six months minimum of study before they let you take the last step?” 

He nodded. “They do, but they made all the moral stuff seem high-minded, you know, we’re better than other vampires. We aren’t perverts like Jean-Claude and his vampires.” He looked up and was scared, and it showed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” 

Harry sighed. “I’m not offended, but the thing is most vampires are sexual in nature. It’s just who they are. Some embrace it, some don’t. For vampires, sexuality comes with your appetite. It is nature, blood flow and all.” 

He was blushing now. “At the time, it sounded so noble.” 

“Let me guess, there was this woman that happened to be a vampire?” 

He looked up, startled. “How did you know?” 

“There are right reasons and then there are wrong reasons, and the only way you’d be lured away from normal vampire society is likely a woman of the church. So, what happened? What changed?” 

“She was my partner for the first few months, but after that, she had other duties.” 

Harry didn’t like that, the church was seducing members, and while that wasn’t illegal. It was wrong. “Who did you feed off of tonight?” 

“Sasha, her name was Sasha.” He had a deer in the headlights look. 

“And you brought her back here?” He nodded. “You’re a club member?” He nodded again. “Charles too?” 

“Yes, most everyone here is. Also, it was Clarke’s first time.” 

“The one with the pillow who hugged me?” 

“How did you know?” 

“Do you remember any other girls that people fed off of? Names or descriptions.” He remembered a lot. Harry ended up with four names, two descriptions, and only poor Clarke had not fed. Of course, Harry had known that last part, but it was nice to have things confirmed. It also meant that Clarke was likely hungry, and needed a feeding.

“P-please you won’t tell?” 

Harry touched the man’s arm. “You have every right to be the vampire you want to be. But, let me tell you a secret. A blood oath gives you so much more access to vampire abilities and skills that you wouldn’t get on your own. It’s like taking traits from a parent.” His eyes were wide. 

“Why didn’t they tell us this?” 

“I don’t know, but let me tell you another thing. If you aren’t blood oathed while a young vampire, the older you get, the harder it is to get stronger, and if you pass a certain amount of centuries without an oath to someone stronger you may have some ill effects. You might want to subtly spread that to the others who are more willing to listen.” 

“I wish I had known this.” 

“I wish you had too.” 

Harry poked his head out of the room. “Clarke, can I see you for a moment?” The cushion hugger squeaked and stared at him with big blue eyes. “Come on.” 

He stood and with hunched shoulders he followed Harry through the room. “I- I didn’t feed on anyone…” 

“I know you didn’t,” said Harry, taking him into the same private room. “Which means you’re not at your best. So, come on.” 

Clarke looked confused. “Huh?” 

“You need fed, right? I’m offering you my blood. I may not be a pretty woman, but I do have blood, and you shouldn’t have to go hungry.” He extended his wrist to Clarke, and the man stared down at him. “Go on.” 

Clarke cradled his wrist like it were a baby. His pale fingers glided along the smooth skin. “I don’t want to mar your skin. I don’t like women,” he whispered. “But, being here was better than doing nothing all night.” 

“You don’t have to explain to me.” 

Clarke brought Harry’s wrist to his lips and pressed a soft kiss, and nosed at him. “You smell good, I’ve never smelled… will I be in trouble with your master?” 

“I’m allowed to do what I want,” said Harry winking at him. 

Clarke would have blushed if he could have, but he was all out of blood to do so, and so he ran his tongue along Harry’s wrist and he bit down, his fangs sinking into Harry’s skin, and drawing the sweet syrup of his blood out. He began to suck, his throat making that motion. Harry used his other hand to stroke through his long blond hair gently as he felt the slight drain on him. 

Clarke’s bright eyes lit on fire and his face became flushed. He pulled Harry by the waist on instinct and continued to suck. His body pushing into Harry as he gulped down. 

“Okay, that’s enough, I need the rest.” 

Clarke didn’t want to stop, but Harry swept a hand down his neck, and he reluctantly pulled away. His hair began to shine, and he looked exceptionally pretty in that moment. He was tall and lean, and he pulled Harry into him to give him a cast iron hug. 

“Thank you.” Harry clasped his hand to the wound on his wrist. 

“You’re welcome, now, let’s answer some of my questions so we can get you home and safe.” 

Harry met Zerbrowski not ten minutes later, and they had a long list of names to work through. Zerbrowski noticed the bite mark on his wrist that hadn’t been there before. “You fed one of them?” 

“He was the only one who wasn’t fed. Merlin, these guys are sad,” said Harry shaking his head. “It’s astonishing what Malcolm has done to them.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“He took out everything a vampire’s about! And they’re not blood oathed,” he hissed. “In about a century or two these guys are going to go nuts or die!” 

“You’re serious?” 

“Deadly. Remember what I told you about blood oaths? For example, Damian is alive because of me. He lives through me, and without me. He dies or goes crazy,” he explained. “He takes in my energy, and these new vampires? They don’t have the energy to be anything much.” 

Harry and Zerbrowski made their rounds through the club, and matched every vampire with at least one girl. Charles had fed on three, and he was a big tipper. Two of the girls were his regulars. It took Harry more than an hour to match up those who had fed with whom they’d fed on. It didn’t mean they hadn’t snuck out and fed again, but it made it less likely. He suggested that he could compare bite radiuses on the dead girl with the vampires later. 

The most interesting bit of information that he found had been given up by Clarke after Harry fed him. There had been three other church members there earlier in the evening, and they were also part of the crowd that liked to frequent stripper bars. But none of them were members of the Sapphire Room VIP. Harry had gotten names and addresses for the most newly dead of them. Maybe they’d had something to do with the murder, or maybe they just gotten bored and went home early. 

Zerbrowski had actually called in the state troopers to back them up as they escorted the vampires to their cars. None of them were powerful enough or old enough to be able to fly home. 

Harry was still grimly staring as Zerbrowski took him to the side. “Did I hear you right that they signed a moral clause?” 

“Yep. Some circles call them nightshirt Mormons.” He made a face at this. 

“Seriously?” 

Harry nodded. “I feel kind of bad for them. It’s no wonder they were here. Sex is part of the vampire culture. I mean, taking in blood for a vampire is almost always an instant erection or arousal as the pressure in their bodies rise. It’s like taking ecstasy.” 

“I couldn’t guess,” Zerbrowski laughed. “So, is that why you changed clothes?” 

Harry tilted his head. “I danced tonight,” he confessed, his cheeks turning a bright red. 

Zerbrowski’s eyes widened. “What?! And I missed it?” Several people looked their way, some disgruntled by amusement at a crime scene, and the Sheriff stiffening and trying to straighten his back as if he were important. 

“Thank Merlin you did, I didn’t expect it. I was whisked away and dressed up, and then put on stage! Yeah. Don’t you dare tell anyone.” 

Zerbrowski doubled over laughing. “I really do have to bring Katie around.” 

“Yes.” 

He sobered up and sighed. “Now for the serious part. How about looking at the actual crime scene?” 

“I’m right behind you.” 

He grinned. “Let me show you the ladder.” 

“What ladder?” 

“Our murder scene and body dump are in a hole left by some overzealous construction workers. According to the club manager, they broke ground, but didn’t have all the permits in line, so it’s just a big hole. That’s why we needed the firemen to help us get the body up and out of the whole when you’re done with it.” 

“Ah. Let’s get down there then, and try and get you home.” 

“Yes! Please!” It was likely he wanted to get home to see his wife and kids off. “Not bad, Potter-Black, I can see why you’re outfitted for dancing. Such a small little body.” Zerbrowski teased as he went down first and Harry followed behind. “You have a bubble butt, quite round too.” 

Harry’s face turned blood red. “You know, Zeze if I slip my heel might go down on something hard. It’s pointed you know, gotta be taller with all you giants.” 

He laughed. “So, did you have fun doing it?” 

“I don’t know,” Harry admitted. “Maybe. Sort of. I wasn’t alone, no way I would have done that if I were.” 

“Haha. Did you give anyone a lap dance?” 

“Just Edward.” 

“Ah.” 

It was muddy. It’d rained for a week straight and so the mud was at least three inches thick coating the edges of Harry’s boots. 

She was lying in the hole glowing pale, her eyes staring up at everything and yet nothing at all. Already he could see the similarities to the first body. This one was lying on her back just like the last, and they’d both been strippers. Both had been killed just outside the clubs that they worked in. This one was a blonde and white, which was the same as the first one. 

Harry took out a tape measure, and began to size the bites on either side of her neck, the bend in her left arm, right wrist, and chest. To see if she had thigh bites, Harry was going to have to kneel in the mud. 

He waved his wand to use a repellent and did that very thing, and grimaced at the  _ glup _ of mud that his knee pressed into. Harry measured everything he could find, the bites matched closely. 

Harry got off the ground carefully so as not to slide on his arse. “The Sapphire has security people walking their lot. At least one security guy at any given time. It’s the weekend, there should have been two. Did they see or hear anything?” 

“One of them saw the girl come out with her coat on. She was headed home, done for the night. He saw her go toward the car-” he riffled back through his notebook. “then she wasn’t there. He said, she was walking toward her car, he waved to her, then something attracted his attention to the other side of the lot. He’s a little vague on what attracted his attention, but he swears he only glanced away, and then when he looked back she was gone.” 

“I see.” 

“Yeah, why do you have that look on your face, Harry? Does it mean something?” 

“Did he check her car right away?” 

“Yes, and when he didn’t find her at the car, he went back into the club to see if she’d gone back inside. When he couldn’t find her inside, he got the other guard and they started searching the area where they found her here.” 

“How long does he think he looked away?” 

“Few seconds.” 

“Has anyone checked with anyone else inside who might have seen her leave. I’d like to know what time she left the building, and how long he was staring in the other direction.” 

“Let’s just get out of the hole and find someone who saw her leave and actually looked at a clock.” 

Zerbrowski was still rifling through his book as Harry climbed out first, and spelled his shoes clean. He did the same for Zerbrowski’s shoes. The lights that were directed down into the pit illuminated everything. 

“Actually, one of the ladies inside, a customer, had liked the blonde a lot. She and her husband, so she noticed the time when she left.” 

“And how does it tally with the security guy’s statement?” 

He checked the times back and forth. “Ten minutes.” 

“Ten minutes is an awfully long time to stare at something he isn’t even sure he saw.” 

“You think he lied?” 

“Nope, I think he told you exactly what he thought happened, the truth,” said Harry placing his hands on his hips. 

“I’m lost, what are you getting at?” 

“One of the vamps has to be a master, we have figured that, but they also have to be able to cloud men’s minds enough to pull something like this off.” 

“I thought all vampires could cloud men’s minds.” 

Harry shook his head. “They can mesmerize one person with their gaze, and if they bite them, then they can blank their memory. If they’re powerful enough, they can mesmerize with the eyes and blank most of the memory. But the vic will usually have this vague memory of eyes or sometimes an animal with blazing eyes or even car headlights that were very bright. The mind tries to make mundane sense of what’s happened.” 

“Okay, so one of the vamps zapped him with it’s gaze?” 

“No, I’m betting it wasn’t eyes. I’m betting it was from a distance with no direct gaze, which means old, Zeze, very old,” he told him, “not a single vampire tonight I saw was old or anywhere near it. It’s old and that’s a rather short list around here.”

“I don’t want to act all judgmental, but you’re sure this isn’t Jean-Claude’s people?” 

Harry shook his head. “Most of his people were with us tonight at the club, and our blood oaths would hold them, and then you have all his other clubs. He keeps them busy, Zeze.” 

“What about that Primo guy?” 

“He’s in a cross-wired coffin right now, and has been since we oathed him too,” Harry assured. 

Zerbrowski’s eyes widened. “Isn’t that torture?” 

“What else can we do with someone like Primo?” said Harry sadly. “I thought it was bad for them at first, but they’re not humans, and I recognize that. Parameters change.” 

“Why not get a court order to execute him?” 

Harry sighed. “Because he is a warrior, and if something strong comes into the territory we might need the strength to fend it off. I told you a few years ago that there were only a couple of masters in our city, which is rare.” Zerbrowski nodded. “If someone came through they could destroy the entire community and the human one. Trust me when I say, you want someone like Primo on your side during that time.” 

“Vampire politics is astonishing, Harry.” He shook his head. “How do you do it?” 

Harry shrugged. “Just do what I can to protect the ones who are worth it, the ones who are good, the ones who want to live in peace. It’s worth it to protect others.”

“You’re a better man than some. Well, looks like I won’t see Katie and the kids off,” said Zerbrowski. 

“I’m sorry.” Harry’s mind was on the lack of blood oath, and so he opened his shields to search for his men, and found them having settled in. “ _ Jean? _ ”

_ “Yes, mon Amour?”  _

_ “I just learned tonight from the vampires I questioned that Malcolm has abolished the blood oath for the church.”  _

_ “What?!”  _ That came from three distinct voices causing Harry’s temples to ring at the power that trickled through him. 

“Harry? Are you okay?” 

“Oh, hm? Yeah. Just tired,” said Harry rubbing his temples.  _ “One at a time please.”  _

_ “Are you sure of this, mon Amour?”  _

_ “Yes. Edward were any of the women blonde?” _

_ “All of them. Some were bottled blonde, but still blonde.”  _

Jean-Claude was cursing up a storm in French, all Harry recognized was Merde and Mon Dieu at different intervals, and some other expletives that were too fast for him to translate. 

_ “If those vampires decide to cut loose, it’s going to be one hell of a night,” said Micah.  _

He wasn’t wrong. 

_ “Blood bath.”  _ Edward came over the line.  _ “And then there’s the question of the other churches. Are they doing this too?”  _

_ Fuck. _ Harry must have paled enough for Zerbrowski to notice. “Hey, did you give that vamp too much of your blood?” 

“Huh? What? No. I was just thinking, Merlin’s beard, I hope that the other churches aren’t doing the same with this anti-oath policy. That’ll be a nightmare, Zeze. It’ll be so bad… no master vampire has ever allowed vampires to breed like this without securing himself as leader in more than just name. It’s never been done before. Vampires aren’t big on new ideas. They can’t be left on their own like this. No way.” 

“But they’ve got rights.”

“I know that, Zeze, better than most,” said Harry licking his lips. “But what scares me is if they go crazy, which is likely to happen after so many centuries because they’re living on their own energy and blood donations. They have nothing else going through them. Normal vampires can’t be on their own. It’s nearly impossible, they can’t be held by a loose clause, they have to be oathed otherwise they’ll do what’s natural to them.” 

_ “We will send envoys to the church and see how bad it truly is.”  _

“Looks like we’ll be dealing with that issue at a later date,” said Harry dryly. 

“What?” asked Zerbrowski. 

“Nothing, vampire politics.” 

“I don’t want to know do I?” 

“Nope. Let’s go and ask that nice security guy to strip for us. As if I haven’t seen enough naked men in the last eight hours,” he grumbled, stalking off making Zerbrowski laugh at him. 

“Well good news is you’re a very pretty guy,” said Zerbrowski catching up to him. He had a lecherous grin on his face. 

Harry just stared at him. “I’m nothing special. Have you seen Jean-Claude?” Or Micah or Nathaniel or all the other lovely men. 

“Yeah, but that’s not the same. You have a soft beauty about you.” 

“What?!” Harry squawked aware of Micah laughing and Jean-Claude agreeing in his head. 

“Katie’s words,” Zerbrowski blushed. 

“Right… not hitting on me are you?” Harry tried to make light of it because surely, he was joking. 

“I don’t think I can compete with the men in your life,” he pointed out cheerfully. “And I don’t think she meant that in a feminine way. You have a sweet angelic look about you, something not often seen on men, she said. She thinks it’s what draws others to you, how you are what you are with no false bravado. You’re as sweet as you look, and she also mentions your eyes being a seller that not only were they beautiful, but they were honest.” 

“Uh…” 

_ “This Katie woman has wonderful taste! I could not have put it better,” Jean-Claude purred.  _

_ “You could probably try,” Micah teased. “But she isn’t wrong. Now we just have to make him see it.”  _

_ “We’re trying!” Jean-Claude sing-songed through his head. “He is enchantingly stubborn on himself to a degree that makes me want to tear my hair out.”  _

_ “Now we wouldn’t want to do that, your hair is your best feature. That and your ass,” Micah hummed.  _

_ “Why thank you, my bottom is rather happy that you think so.”  _

It was like some standup comedy routine going in Harry’s head.  _ “Guys?”  _

_ “Yes?”  _

_ “Be quiet!”  _

_ “Yes, Baby.” “Oui, mon Amour.”  _

_ “Yes, be quiet, teasing the Little Raven where we can’t see him is just criminal.”  _

Of course, Edward had to add something clever into the mix, which got the other two laughing around in his head. 

Harry shook his head as Zerbrowski continued to snicker, but soon enough they were making the security guy strip for them. He wasn’t pleased with it, and Harry apologized, and told him that it was important that they know. It was as Harry feared. He was perfectly clean, no vampire bites. By this time, fatigue was settling in, and the whole night’s events were spinning around him. It was getting harder to focus, but he powered through it. 

_ “If this is someone Malcolm has not noticed or overlooked and even I can’t feel then this is a big deal. Something big is in town, bigger than a master vampire. We must be on high alert and suss out what it is before it gets worse.”  _

_ “It’s not the Dragon is it?” asked Micah.  _

_ “Non. I would feel her in an instant, council or not. Once you feel someone you will know them for life. It is someone even I do not know. I will do some digging and make some calls, but it is near the time of my resting, dawn is fast approaching. Please do not do anything rash against the church until I awake again.”  _

_ “Can’t do anything with everyone dead for the day. But we can prepare,” said Edward.  _

_ “Where are we sleeping tonight?”  _ Harry asked when he said good-bye to Zerbrowski and headed to the car as the fire truck moved in to pull the poor woman from the hole she’d been thrown in. Some of the lot had cleared out, and Harry saw the Lexus parked a couple rows down. He was aching in places that he didn’t know could ache, and he was so flat out exhausted now that the gray sky rising was burning his eyes, and making him wish for sunglasses. He really wanted to sleep right there and right now. Everything was screaming to sleep. 

_ “Circus is closer, Baby,”  _ said Micah. “ _ We need to get you in bed before you drop.”  _

Harry mentally nodded as he slid into the Escalade, and as Micah reminded him of his penchant for dropping and not getting back up, he let out the world’s largest yawn. He sat there for a moment trying to will his mind and body to work and start the car. He faded out for a time when the door to the driver’s side opened, and it was Edward. He pushed Harry to the middle with ease and hopped in. 

“Micah?” 

“Driving the Lexus back.” 

Harry nodded and curled up on the seat and snuggled into Edward, allowing the world to drift away. For him a bed was any place that was safe, and he couldn’t be any safer than he was with Edward.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

He knew he had slept a long time when he awoke alone in bed, and particularly when he and three others were in bed and one of those three happened to be a vampire. It was almost too comfortable to move. He had a heap of silk sheets and duvets over top of him. Micah liked to pile blankets over top of him as if he thought Harry was going to either freeze to death or miss the barriers of his men. 

Harry was sure he’d caught Edward doing it a time or two as well, but he couldn’t quite prove it. Not that he would. But still, by the time he managed to wiggle out of the covers in question he felt as if he’d turned it into an exercise. 

He was at the Circus and so there was no way to really tell what time it was if you weren’t a wizard, but the fact that Jean-Claude was already awake and out of bed told him that he’d been down a while. 

He pushed the heap of covers aside, and crawled out of the bed. He staggered with a bit of light-headedness and the fact that his limbs had forgotten to work while he was down. He found that it was about four o’ clock in the afternoon. 

Yikes! Normally, he was awake a little after noon, not four o’ freaking clock! Harry got dressed and stumbled out of the room towards the underground kitchen. He should get something in him, coffee or food, to help him fully wake up. 

As he turned the corner and about to enter the kitchen he was greeted by an unusual sight. Teddy and Peter were sitting at the table with Byron at the stove and Requiem standing against the counter. Harry ducked back and watched as Bryon continued cooking and the four talked. 

“So why do you smell like Parrain? Did you get permission?” Teddy asked as his feet swung from his seat on the table. 

“Being around weres is so weird! Their smell? Really Teddy, isn’t there a better way to have asked if they were fucking Harry?” The sixteen year old asked. “And surely they aren’t, you know Edward would shoot them if they were having sex with your godfather.”

“Nah, Dad likes to watch, so as long as he has a memory he’s happy.” Teddy shrugged. “Or at least that’s what Caleb said.” 

_ Caleb? Really?  _ Looked like Harry would need to speak to his pard again about what they say to Teddy.

“I can assure you, luv, it was consensual and permission was granted.” Bryon spoke up from the stove. “No one is getting shot.”

“Indeed. We were there to act as food in case it was needed, and it was good we were as he used up quite a bit of energy saving Damien.” Requiem added. “There might have been some confusion, but it was all freely given.”

“Are you new dancers at Père’s club?” Teddy asked with a smile.

“Yes,” Byron plated up whatever he had been working on and set two plates on the table for the boys. “Coming in Duckie? There’s enough here for you too.”

Peter turned in shock as Harry entered the room. “Harry.” The boy blushed. He was at the awkward age where most boys liked to pretend they were mature by cursing and talking about sex; but Peter still tended to blush whenever Harry, Edward, or Micah overheard him. “Sorry, didn’t know you were there.”

“You’re fine Peter. Hey Teddy Bear, grilling Jean’s newest dancers?” Harry dropped a kiss to Teddy’s head and ruffled Peter’s hair before taking a seat at the table. “Cheers Bryon.”

Bryon set a plate in front of Harry. “My pleasure Duckie. Eat up luvs.”

“Harry, I want to assure you that nothing was forced from our end the other day.” Requiem spoke up once half of the food from Harry’s plate was gone. “We both had agreed to the possibility before we were sent. If it wasn’t wanted and I unwilling, I had plenty of time to leave or to block it.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s brilliant that you care so much, luv. But I promise, since I broke free from Belle Morte I have been able to deny that call. It holds no power over me unless I allow it. You did no wrong.” Requiem reached out a hand, palm up, as a metaphorical olive branch. Harry could do nothing other than accept it.

“Very well.”

“It’s great having others from home. I miss the accent sometimes.” Teddy piped up as he finished his plate. 

“Haha, is that so, luv? Well, you’ll just have to hang out around us more often.” Bryon smugly smiled. 

“Sounds like.” Harry smiled at Teddy’s excitement. His baby may be growing up quickly, but he still held his childlike innocence when making friends in the community. Harry remembered the last powerful new vampire Teddy had made friends with. Traveler had been swept away by Teddy when the council came calling last and had left with the promise to always be Teddy’s friend. Harry didn’t know if Traveler realized what he had promised when he said that to the child 

Peter on the other hand was still trying to get used to his new surroundings. He had lived in a culture that had virtually demonized shifters and vampires. His own father had been a victim of a werewolf attack, and then there were the completely human pieces of rubbish that had kidnapped him and Harry both. 

His new environment had given him a lot of information, to learn that not all shifters were bloodthirsty and violent. Yes, they did have that hunger, but most shifters would rather cut off their own limbs than hurt an innocent. It’s why most of them transformed their bloodlust into sex. As Nathaniel once put it, if they could do it then they shouldn’t be eating it. 

Vampires on the other hand were a bit more tricky, but Harry had come to learn that it all depended on circumstances. Who their masters were, what had they learned, and what their powers give to them. Most sought after power, and to get stronger and stronger until they could be their own masters. Some never did get to be a master or if they did, they were so insane like Primo that they couldn’t be left on their own without causing massive destruction. 

Peter was seeing all sides of the picture, and Edward had told him that seeing all sides is the only way to live, and while Edward hadn’t said the word sociopath, it had been hinted. All are the same, all can be killed, but a sociopath had a bit more responsibility than those who were psychopath or on the opposite scale. Harry didn’t fully understand it, but he could feel Edward’s wisdom in his words that he taught Peter, and it seemed that Peter was now starting to catch on. 

But then, he was still a teenager, and couldn’t even be considered a sociopath until he was the age of majority. He had two years before the reality would actually settle in, and so Edward had been careful labeling Peter so soon. 

“Where are my men anyway?” Harry asked. He was impressed that Byron could cook. 

Merlin above, Jean-Claude had tried to cook a couple months back for him, and what resulted was something they still didn’t talk about. It had taken Gil, their resident werefox and Circus custodian, hours to clean up and that was with Harry assisting to get the burnt smell out of the Circus. 

“Edward and Jean-Claude are having words with Primo,” said Requiem sitting down in front of them elegantly at the table. “Micah went to check that the leopards who live away have everything they need. Said something about checking that the troublemakers weren’t filling the house with junk food.”

“Zane and Caleb. How is that going with Primo?” he asked dubiously. 

“No one is screaming,” said Byron. 

“Who is Primo?” Peter asked. 

“An idiot,” Harry answered, reaching for the iced tea. “Sorry, but how else can I explain him nicely?” 

“You can’t. Some vampires like Primo are bound for eternity,” said Requiem delicately. “No matter their power, they need to be tied by the wrists and held to keep from causing damage.” 

“Or exterminated,” said Edward trailing in through the room. “You’re finally up, Little Raven?” 

“Yeah, why did you let me sleep so long? Is Damian okay? I know he can go hungry if I don’t eat throughout the day. His energy drains.” 

“It’s only been an hour, Little Raven, since he’s awaken,” said Edward, sliding a hand up his back and through his hair. “Hm, this table is familiar.” He ran a hand along the surface and smirked. “Did we fuck on it?” 

Peter’s face went blood red, and Harry choked on the sweet tea. Byron laughed, and Requiem gave Edward a look of shock at him just openly speaking like that in front of a little boy. 

“Edward!” Harry whined. 

“Hm, smooth surface. Yes, I think this is the one that had the Alpha sliding off of it, do you remember?” Edward tugged at Harry’s hair a bit harder. 

Harry couldn’t respond, he was so red and still coughing. Peter was just staring wild-eyed. Teddy giggled. “It smells fine to me.” He pressed his nose to the surface making Harry moan. 

“Edward, did you really-? I thought Micah was bad enough!” 

“Shall I say it softer?” He taunted, and this only made it worse, and the color on his face somehow deepened. 

“Why?” asked Teddy. “It’s all the same right?” 

Byron snickered. “He’s a smart lad!” 

“Darn straight I am. I’m very smart, besides I like it when they smell like each other. It’s nice,” he puffed up proudly. 

Peter looked like he was about to fall over, and Harry wasn’t far behind. Edward was obviously getting amusement out of it. 

“Yes, but perhaps you could say it in a more elegant fashion?” Requiem asked delicately. 

“Seems like a waste of time.” 

“Edward doesn’t mince words,” said Harry, finally getting his throat cleared. 

“That’s apparent. Perhaps tasteful? Your Little Prince is too darling for such coarse words.” 

“Is that a proposition to be his pomme?” Edward asked lifting Teddy up without prompt and sitting down between Peter and Harry. Teddy beamed as he settled back on Edward’s lap and took up his fork again. 

“If that is what is asked of me,” said Requiem. 

“What’s a pomme?” asked Peter. “I’ve been hearing that word a lot lately, and why does Harry seem to need one? Also, why do you let him have sex with anyone?” 

“Maybe I should go and let you guys talk…” Harry tried to slink off, but Edward snapped around his forearm and pulled him back. 

“I don’t think so, Little Raven.” 

“Surely, you don’t need me.” 

“You’re the one who said if they’re old enough to ask they should get the answer.” 

“I’d like to see how you’re going to answer a question that I don’t even hardly understand,” said Harry. “And I have to live with it.” 

“Am I allowed to answer this question?” Requiem asked with a gentle smile. “A pomme de sang is a word most of us vampires use meaning apple of blood, shortened to pomme. Most older vampires tend to have a pomme de sang, they are sacred, and are a vampire’s personal blood donor.” 

“That’s Jason!” Teddy chirped. 

“Correct, little lad. It is Jason.” 

“But, Harry isn’t a vampire. He doesn’t drink blood,” Peter pointed out. 

“Non, but some vampires have extra abilities. Jean-Claude’s abilities are extremely rare. I would say of all the monsters of the night only five or six hold something called the ardeur where they must feast on more than blood. It is a hunger like your food and a thirst like your drink. If not satiated properly it can cause a mass amount of destruction, and while it might not be violent there is more ways to destroy a room than a fight.” 

“He’s saying sex,” Edward clarified. 

Peter was just staring. “But, Harry’s not a vampire,” He repeated with confusion, and then he was unsure. “Are you?” He looked over at Harry who was sitting there staring at Requiem. 

“No.” 

“No one knows what he is, Peter. He’s a rather interesting mix,” Edward smirked. 

“He is Jean-Claude’s human servant, though I never did appreciate that term because it is not a master/servant partnership so much as it is a bond that is everlasting. For a true partnership they have to have complete trust and understanding. It’s almost like a marriage that fuses their strengths and weaknesses together. He is the human equivalent of a master, and so they tend to share traits because of blood and power flowing from one to the other. It opens up new avenues. Harry here is stronger, more durable, he will likely heal much faster. His speed and endurance, everything is enhanced. In return, Jean-Claude gains energy and extra stamina, and unlocks more ways to get stronger through Harry as humans grow, but vampires generally stop at a certain age. So it opens a lot more pathways for a vampire. It also means that Harry here is taking on traits and abilities of Jean-Claude. It is exceedingly rare that Harry here could even be a holder of the ardeur. I have never heard of a human being able to possess such,” Requiem admitted. “Even if Belle Morte, the head of the line, makes a hundred new vampires, only one or two of them has the possibility of gaining the ardeur,” he explained. “So for a human to possess it has made it a real conundrum.” 

“And the ardeur requires- sex?” Peter was trying not to blush, and his eyes darted over to Teddy as if he was unsure. 

“I know what sex is, I’m not an idiot,” said Teddy causing Peter to make a noise. 

“We’ve always believed in the truth with Teddy,” said Harry running his fingers through Teddy’s hair. He was mimicking Requiem’s long black hair, but without the mustache. It was too cute. “No matter his age, the more he knows, the more safe and protected he will be when he’s not with us. If he doesn’t know anything about sex how is he going to fend someone off of him who is going to try and use that to take advantage and hurt him?” Harry shuddered at the very idea. Stephen and Gregory’s past came to mind. “Besides, he can smell us, and it’s just a stupid lie. I’m with Edward, Micah, and Jean-Claude every day and they with me. I don’t like lying to kids because some people are sensitive.” 

Peter rolled the information around in his head. “So, if he doesn’t have enough… food? What happens then?” 

“An entire room will be on the receiving end.” Edward reached for his coffee.

“In other words, luv, it would spiral into an all out orgy where no one can control themselves,” said Byron. 

“You mean…” 

“There is such a thing as loving someone to death, and the ardeur is famous for it,” said Requiem. 

Peter’s brain must have imploded because his mouth was slightly open. “You’re saying that if this goes out of control an entire room could…” he looked at Teddy again. “Fuck themselves to death?” 

“Bingo,” said Edward smirking. 

“Room? Hah, I’ve seen entire towns and villages go up in carnal hunger, lad,” said Requiem. “Belle Morte was terrifying back when it was allowed and out of control. She commanded whole villages and all with a taste of her lust. She changed laws, she got land and titles, she started and ended full wars with her abilities. Before the Council finally realized that they better put a stop to it. You ever wonder what happened to Pompeii?”

“Isn’t that the village that was consumed by a volcano?” 

Requiem simply smiled. “Is that what they tell you in your American History class? A very interesting concept of lies indeed.” 

It was a history lesson that Harry didn’t think he needed, especially considering it was revolving about his ardeur, and Peter was poking and prodding at it. Edward seemed amused by Harry’s discomfort, and poor Teddy was trying to follow, but couldn’t quite get all of it yet. 

“I’m going to find someone normal to talk to,” he sulked as he slinked away before he could get called back. 

“Good luck!” Teddy called out. Harry didn’t think he was being sarcastic.

He wondered where Micah and Jean-Claude happened to be? Surely it wouldn’t take Micah long to check on the leopard’s house? It would be a couple hours before it was nightfall enough for the Riverfront to really open up for the night. Sundays weren’t the busiest, but they still garnered quite a crowd. Monday was usually the dead days unless it was July or August.

It was still early, and some of the lesser vampires were preparing to rise for the night. It’s why it was so silent. He wanted to make sure Damian had sustenance, and so he turned toward his bedroom which had been given to him by Jean-Claude beside Jason’s bedroom. Harry had requested that Damian get his own room when he had to stay at the Circus. 

“I don’t fucking get it. What the hell is so special about him other than he’s pretty and holds the ardeur?” 

“He is my master.” 

“By a fluke, Damian!” 

“I don’t know why this is even an issue with you, Meng-Die. You sleep with Graham and Requiem like clockwork and I don’t care.” 

“Why don’t you care?” 

“Because it’s what you want, so I don’t understand why it is such a big deal with you.” 

“You choose him over me!” 

“Yes, I do. He’s my Master. I live with him.” 

“But to fuck him? You don’t even like men!” 

“He’s different.” 

“How?” 

“He is who he is. You’d see him for who he is if you spent time around him.” 

“I don’t want to be around him, what use is he to me?” Meng-Die scowled. 

“He’s not selfish, and I wish for him to choose me as his pomme de sang.” 

“Why?!” Her voice was getting louder, even for the sound dampeners around the walls. 

Harry thought he should backtrack and not eavesdrop, but his feet wouldn’t move. He wasn’t so sure if he wanted Damian as a pomme. It was Harry’s job to take care of him, not devour him. 

“He needs me. I like the idea that I would be his one. It is a nice feeling.” 

Meng-Die let out a snort that was probably not very attractive. “Feeling? As if you can feel anything, Damian.” 

“Actually, I do these days. I can feel a lot that I never did before.” 

“Besides, he’s fucking everything coming and going.” 

“So are you,” he pointed out, making her growl some more. “But, they are your choices. Sometimes he doesn’t have a choice because of the ardeur. The other night proved it. I don’t want to see my master in that shape again. If I can be his pomme, then he will be safe. I’m strong enough to handle multiple instances where someone like Jason or one of the submissive leopards would collapse.” 

“Yes, I heard about him and Requiem!” she snarled. “Requiem wouldn’t shut the hell up, and then Graham.  _ Oh, my Lupa is just so beautiful. You should have seen him last night _ … really a mood killer.” 

“I don’t know why you would be jealous-” 

“I’m not jealous!” 

“Harry has never been with Graham.” 

“Yet.” 

“He has no plans to fuck Graham,” Damian continued. “He is Graham’s Lupa, but he does not wish for anyone he doesn’t know or trust. As I’m his servant, I think I would be the best fit to be his pomme.” 

“You just want sex.” 

“Naturally, and really why would you have an issue with it? We both agreed to casual.” 

“But not with him! You said you weren’t having sex with him that he wasn’t making you.” 

“My master has never made me do anything,” said Damian crossly. “He’s never forbidden me from doing anything. He is not like Jean-Claude, and I have learned that I do like having some free will. I like choosing things for myself, and this is my choice.” 

“Well, I don’t want you to make it!” 

“I do not belong to you. I belong to him.” 

She let out a low snarl. “I’m stronger than you.” 

Harry’s eyes narrowed, and his magic started prickling as he heard the veiled threat. 

“But you are not stronger than him,” Damian said in that same simple weather talking tone. 

Before anything more could be said, Harry pushed Damian’s door open. It wasn’t every day that Harry could make a master vampire flinch, but he had when he opened the door. “Is everything okay in here?” He smiled sweetly as though he hadn’t heard Meng-Die, but his magic might have bubbled to the top making her seize up. 

It was a pity that Harry could not seem to get along with Meng-Die who was absolutely gorgeous. Every time he tried, she’d only sneer at him. He never understood it. He thought maybe she was in love with Jean-Claude, but no, Harry didn’t actually think that was an issue. Meng-Die was one of the few that Jean-Claude had chosen and sculpted in his image centuries ago, and it showed not only in her strength but beauty. 

Damian turned, his long red hair swishing. “It is fine, Meng-Die was just leaving.” Meng-Die said nothing, but the look she flashed him wasn’t pretty as she stalked passed him and out the door. 

“Did I interrupt something?” 

Damian shook his head. “No master. She is upset because I won’t sleep with her exclusively; though she doesn’t sleep with me exclusively so I do not understand her ire.” 

“Don’t let her force you into something you don’t want to do,” said Harry. “Have you fed yet? I slept forever, and don’t want your energy drained.” 

Damian’s room was almost empty except for the large round bed with crimson sheets and pillows. He has a wardrobe in the corner and a tall mirror. A single light in the corner cast spider shadows on the wall. It looked rather gloomy to Harry. 

“I fed, yes. Seth went to the dance studio with the rest of the Guilty Pleasures dancers. You heard me speaking right?” 

“Sorry, I don’t like eavesdropping on people. I was trying to get away from everyone embarrassing me,” said Harry plopping down on his bed. “Are you happy with this room?” 

“It’s all I need. It’s not home,” said Damian.

“Okay. Just making sure. Sorry if I messed things up with you and Meng-Die.” 

“You did not. You heard what I said, I wish to be your pomme,” said Damian sitting down beside him. “I didn’t like what happened yesterday. You would have let Edward kill you?” 

“Has that been bothering you this whole time?” Damian nodded solemnly. “You know why I did it right?” 

“You told me.” 

“I don’t think you understand. Let me try something. If I could do it with Jean-Claude, I can do it with you.” He gently placed a hand on Damian’s pale forehead, and transferred his memory of Voldemort right into Damian. 

All was still as Damian watched the memory in his own head, and then he let out a gasp. “Wh-what was that?” His big green eyes were wide, and he stared at Harry. 

“My worst nightmare, they called him, He Who Must Not Be Named,” said Harry, running his hand down Damian’s cheek. “He’s also inside of me. Some of his magic, some of his soul. It’s somehow tethered to me and always will be. I respect him, and recognize that in the end it’s because of him I was able to get the truth and be free, but he is also a monster. A monster I have to live with all the time. He is inside of me. He is the devil on my shoulder. I do not ever want to end up like him. So Edward and I have a promise to each other.” 

“I don’t think you could be like that… at least my Mistress was pleasant on the eyes.” 

Harry chuckled weakly. “It has nothing to do with looks, Damian. It has to do with what you are inside. But, I don’t want to be like that. I would do everything in my magical power to make sure you didn’t die too. My magic is funny like that. Might listen to me. But, I can’t stoop to that level, I can’t let myself get like that. If I start breaking the few barriers I have and not caring about them, then it’s going to get easier until I have no conscience.” 

“Then why don’t you make use of me, take me as your pomme.” Damian curled his arms around Harry. Harry stroked his scarlet hair. “Would I not be enough?” 

“You would be more than enough, Damian, but I’ve always had this sneaky suspicion that you and I are related.” 

Damian pulled back. “I don’t understand?” 

“I showed you a picture of my mum once. You’re as beautiful as her. You have our eyes and her hair. For some reason I feel that you are a part of me.” He touched Damian’s cheek. “I’ll always take you when you need me, and I loved touching you. But I haven’t made any decisions yet. I’m still terrified of this ardeur,” he confessed. 

“You should be. It is dangerous.” 

“I know, and I don’t want it to twist me. I don’t want it to change me.” 

“You think we are related?” 

“Yes,” said Harry. “So doing a relation is kind of odd.” 

Damian cracked a rare smile. “What do you think I am?” 

“No idea. I almost want to test your blood, but I don’t know any heritage spells or potions or anything. I’d have to ask Draco. But I would not be surprised if you are a great-great-great something grandfather of sorts, and for a human… you don’t do the grandfather,” Harry squeaked. 

Damian actually burst out laughing, and Harry noted that it was a beautiful laugh. 

“I can count back my father’s side because they’re all Pureblood, but my mother was a Muggleborn, meaning she was born to normal parents with magic in her. I don’t know, anyone with the surname Evans strikes your fancy?”

“I don’t remember,” Damian confessed. “I just wish to be someone’s only one.” 

“You are mine. You’re the only one who is my servant, and while I can’t promise the pomme thing. I can promise you that if you find someone that you want to be the only one with, I will honor that.” He kissed Damian on the cheek softly. 

“I never had wishes before,” said Damian. “I never had any wants of my own. All my past wants were what she wanted. Nothing I wanted mattered to her.” 

“It matters to me,” said Harry petting him. “I won’t let her have you.” He threaded his fingers through Damian’s scarlet hair. “I won’t let her get to you. I’ll stop all in it’s tracks from getting their hands on you, Damian.” Harry’s cellphone began to ring, and he found that it was Zerbrowski. “It’s a bit early for anymore murders,” he muttered dubiously as he answered. “Hey Zeze, what’s up?” 

“Do you want to come and help me question the witness from the Sapphire Club that didn’t stick around? I also plan on making a stop at the church, and thought maybe you’d be much more useful than me.” 

Harry unwound his arm from Damian. “Sure.” 

“Harry, we have to get in front of this thing. It’s running away from us.” 

“I agree with you completely. If we don’t get in front of this thing they’ll be gone from St. Louis and begin somewhere else.” 

“Yes, my thoughts exactly. I’ll come get you. Are you at home or the Circus?” 

“Circus.” 

“Great, I’ll be there in about forty minutes.” As the two hung up, Harry sighed. 

“Looks like I’m going to work,” said Harry tapping the phone on his palm. 

“Is this something you like doing?” 

“Yes and no. Sometimes it gets a bit much,” he confessed. “But, I like helping where I can. It’s sort of in me to do something. I can’t just sit on my hands. If I don’t look for trouble, chances are the trouble finds me. At least if I’m heading straight toward it I know the score, when it sneaks up on you…” 

Damian grinned. “I guess that makes a strange sort of sense. How do you tell the difference between us? We’re all monsters.” 

“So are humans,” said Harry. “All my enemies were human monsters, Damian, and I tell the difference by the individual. Not by a collective.” 

“You can’t be that good of a person.” 

“I’m not a good person. I’m just a person who cares.” 

“And because you care, I have to care.” 

Harry leaned in and pressed a soft chaste kiss to Damian’s lips. “Don’t let her order you around, Damian, and don’t let her use me as an excuse. Unless you want to use me as an excuse, that’s fine.” 

Damian shook his head. “I do not understand you.” He licked his lips. 

“Get in line.” 

“I hope we’re not related.” 

Harry laughed. “Why not?” 

“Sex was too good.” 

And for most vampires, it was so simple with them. Harry hugged Damian while laughing. “I can’t promise, but I can promise that you will only ever be my vampire servant. No one else.” 

“Good.” 

“I better go dress, we’re also going to the church. I best look like Jean-Claude’s human servant and all around bad arse. Oh boy… I’m getting conceited.” Damian only smiled at him as he stood. “And here I was enjoying loose pajamas.”

It was a quick ten minutes later, and Harry was grumbling. He really needed to teach Jean-Claude what was appropriate with crime scenes because white just didn’t work. 

He stepped into the private living room just off Jean-Claude’s bedroom to see him, Asher, and Requiem discussing something. Edward was next to him cleaning one of his weapons, Peter and Teddy had gone upstairs to the Circus itself with Byron and Damian. 

“Jean, we need to discuss what you view as appropriate,” said Harry with his hands on his hips. 

Jean-Claude beamed. “You look dashing.” 

“It’s not the look that’s inappropriate, I have to go to a crime scene and anything white or cream colour is dangerous to wear.” 

“He has a point,” said Asher. 

“Get a call, Little Raven?” Edward’s eyes were as usual unreadable. 

“Yeah, Zeze wants me to come with him to interrogate a couple of the church members.” 

Harry was currently wearing a very tight pair of hip hugging white jeans that had golden criss-cross ties from the hip down. It was topped with soft gray boots that had some white fur around the top matched with a form fitting white top with a slightly high neck, and the only thing that saved it from being a possible target for everything was the fact that he was also wearing a gray mini vest over that with a line of white fur along the edges. Mini vests were in style, even for men, and Jean-Claude loved that idea. Maybe a bit too much. Harry would just like a pair of simple jeans and a button down. But, Jean-Claude thought that wasn’t good enough. He had to make a statement. 

“I think it’s perfect. It’s hard to wear white, but you are one of the few who can get away with it.” 

“Uh huh, crime scenes are dirty.” 

“You have magic do you not?” 

“Not the point.” 

“You are going to interview persons of interest, yes? So you won’t have a crime scene.” Jean-Claude was on his feet and already pecking at Harry’s clothes. He adjusted the torc around Harry’s neck and hummed. “You know maybe I should get more torcs made? Sometimes the black can be harsh when we’re trying for light summer colors.” He made sure the torc sat outside and in view so that the diamonds glowed. 

“Gray would look nice,” Requiem pointed out. 

“Oui.” 

Harry shook his head. “It doesn’t matter what I wear.”

“That is entirely not true.” He tapped Harry’s nose and then kissed his forehead. “It is a statement from me and you.” 

“Uh huh, well if that’s the case I should probably walk around naked, the statement would be very clear then.” Requiem and Asher barked out laughing, and Jean-Claude smiled. 

“Oui, but if I did that Edward might kill me.” 

Edward snapped his gun back into place as he stood, and took the rag to wipe his hands down. “It depends on my mood. I’m following along behind. Keys?” Harry waved his hand and the keys shot out of Edward’s back pocket. “Smart ass.” He snatched them while pulling Harry to his chest as he did so. 

“It’s what happens when you pay so much attention to your guns and not what’s in your pocket.” Harry bit him on the chin. “Going to go see Teddy, and then wait for Zeze outside. Merlin, I hope he decontaminated his car. But the odds of that are about the likelihood of you walking outside without a gun. Not happening.” He shuddered as he stomped off leaving Jean-Claude laughing, and Edward smirked. 

“I blame you entirely, Toy.” 

“Whatever did I do, mon Tueur d’Ombre?” Jean-Claude pouted. 

“What indeed.” 

Jean-Claude stroked Edward’s cheek and kissed him on the cheek. “Best be after him before he does something to get himself in trouble.” 

“That, unfortunately, I can’t blame on you.” He nodded to Asher and Requiem before heading out leaving Jean-Claude observing the sociopathic human. 

“He’s unlike any human I’ve ever met,” Requiem admitted.

“Oui, he is beautiful,” said Jean-Claude, sinking back down on the couch. 

“Even if he almost killed the little Prince?” 

“Most definitely, because I did wrong and I understand I did wrong. It almost cost me. I have no doubt Edward would have gone through with it,” said Jean-Claude quietly. “Edward may be many things but he does not waste a promise, and Harry means more to him than anyone on this earth, including his guns. A man who can’t feel was taught to feel.” He looked at Requiem. 

“You mean, he’s as sociopathic as he comes off?” 

“Oui, purely sociopath. His only love is Harry and through Harry he somehow loves me and mon Chaton, and of course Teddy. I should have been unsurprised that mon Amour would hold him to it. That is who mon Amour is. He does not take advantage. He is not a monster like the rest of us. Somehow it all works. No one can humble a monster more than Harry Potter-Black. It is nice to know that if I ever get to Belle Morte’s level I will not live to see the next night. Edward will kill me, and that is comforting. He is the one human that I believe could destroy most all. He is a force because he has no reason not to be.”

Jean-Claude would be thinking for a long time. His mind was calm, and he carefully wrapped around his mon Amour’s ardeur. It would not do to have it unleash in that horrible church. 

oOo 

Zerbrowski let out a long drawn out whistle when Harry slipped into the passenger seat of the filthy silver sedan. “Well don’t you look like the prettiest thing that’s ever been in my car.” His grin was boyish, and his eyes sparkled. 

“I take it Katie doesn’t ride in here?” 

“Nope, we take the mini van when we’re all together.” 

“Probably wise,” said Harry crunching down on McDonalds and Taco Bell bags that littered the floorboard. “Can I?” 

“Have at it. I did clean off the front seat for you.” 

“Hm.” He snapped his fingers and all the bags and remnants disappeared. Still tons of crumbs, the smell of week old greasy pizza and burgers still hung in the air, but at least he could move. “Better.” He reached for his seatbelt. 

Zerbrowski laughed as he circled out of the parking lot, and not long after Harry’s Escalade ended up on the road two car lengths behind them. Zerbrowski knew, but he didn’t bother mentioning it. By now he expected someone to be on his tail if he had Harry in the car. “So, why all dressed up in white? Is it the church?” 

“It’s Jean-Claude,” said Harry, placing his hands in his lap. Really, the console and dash felt greasy. 

“He doesn’t dress Edward does he?” 

“He keeps to Edward’s style of dress, but likes to play with that style. Edward doesn’t mind the leather, easier to hide things in.” 

“I bet.” 

“So, did you tell Katie about where you were last night before your crime scene?” 

Zerbrowski’s cheeks flared. “Maybe.” 

“She wasn’t mad was she?” 

“Almost wish she was.” 

Harry snickered. “Let me guess, she asked for details.” 

“ _ Uh huh _ .” 

“And you got lucky?” 

“Right before the kids got home, yes,” said Zerbrowski, his smile stretching wide. “Sound familiar to you?” 

“Something like that.” 

By the time they reached their first witness the sun had turned a deep blood red in the sky. Harry slipped out of the car and double checked that there were no stains on his ass. He blamed Jean-Claude. Once upon a time Harry didn’t care what he looked like or what he was wearing at all, but now with all these clothes that were too fancy or expensive, Harry had to look in a mirror from time to time. 

“Anything on my arse?” 

Zerbrowski pretended to spend a long time looking at Harry’s ass while grinning mischievously. “Nope, not that I can see.” 

“Good.” 

The apartment number was on the second floor, in a line of concrete on a walkway with a black metal railing. Harry paused just outside the door, and laid a hand on Zerbrowski to stop him from knocking. “Let me check that he’s awake first. If he’s not blood oathed he might not be, and knocking would be useless.” 

He hadn’t ever tried to sense other vampires that didn’t belong to Jean-Claude since the rolling fires when he’d had to go into a burned building that saw the basement completely submerged. But, he was sure he could do it. So he stretched out his magic and senses and brushed along the coffin that sat in the room. All was still, not a heart-beat thumped. He flicked some of his magic over the heart and he could feel slowly but surely the soul of the vampire sinking back into his chest. 

“Wait - you mean if they’re not blood oathed they can stay dead?” asked Zerbrowski. 

“Mhmm. It’s like their soul doesn’t have enough juice to keep going. It’s always why I say vampires aren’t dead so much as their souls are on a higher plane. In the in between. Sometimes I see them hovering in the air awaiting the night.” 

“Why?” 

“I don’t honestly know, maybe it’s the Death Magic that becomes strong as the sun sinks? Not all vampires are confined to the night. Jean-Claude can wake up or be up for hours depending on the circumstances. A master wakes first, and then he breaths power and life into his lesser vampires.” 

Zerbrowski was now scribbling this information in his notebook. Harry had never seen him reach so fast into his pocket for it. “I am never going anywhere without this again. So, you can wake him up?” 

“Essentially, yes. Please don’t tell others that.” 

“Secret is safe with me,” said Zerbrowski. “You know, I always heard stories that vampires all lived in a dungeon or a big house on the hill with no windows.” 

Harry chuckled. “Yes and no. It depends on their master’s location, and ever since Robert was murdered for trying to live away from Jean-Claude, he’s forbidden anyone from living out of the district alone. Special permission needs granted now.” Including Harry, Hermione, or Draco being around to ward the property, which he did not say out loud. “Dungeons and basements make the most sense considering the sunlight, but there are ways now that you can have windows and your night time too without the sun.” 

“Is that why your windows are tinted black?” 

“One of many,” said Harry smiling innocently. “You can knock now.” He had been waiting for the vampire to get oriented with himself, and Zerbrowski tapped on the door. 

The door opened, and the vampire stood blinking at them. His blond hair was tousled from sleep. He was wearing nothing but jeans. He squinted at them with colorless gray eyes. He had a nice tan for a vampire. One of the most convincing he’d seen. He wouldn’t forget Andy and his run with instant tanning creme. Harry and Micah had never laughed so hard especially with the horrified expression on Jean-Claude’s face as though Andy had committed a crime. 

“Jack Benchely?” Zerbrowski made it a question. 

“Who wants to know?” 

Zerbrowski and Harry flashed their badges. “Sergeant Zerbrowski of the Regional Preternatural Investigation Team.” 

“Federal Marshall Harry Potter-Black.” 

Jack blinked harder, like he was trying to wake up. “Shit, what did I do to get the Spook Squad and the Equalizer at my door just after sundown?” 

“Let’s go inside and talk about that,” said Zerbrowski with a smile. 

“You got a warrant?” 

“We don’t want to search your place, Mr. Benchely. We only want to ask you some questions that’s all,” he said smiling genuinely. 

“We wish to keep this out of the church as much as possible Mr. Benchely, I know Malcom wouldn’t appreciate you having to answer the questions we have for you,” said Harry genially. 

Jack’s eyes flickered. “Right, the club.” He held the door open further. “Are you going to tell Malcolm?” 

“I don’t want to. He’s not my master, and I have no loyalty to him,” said Harry. 

“Right,” he repeated as he gave a decided nod with a lick of his lips. “Come in.” 

“Thank you,” said Zerbrowski as Jack shuffled to the side and kept his hands where they could see them. 

Jack Benchely had a small record before becoming a vampire. It wasn’t anything big. Mostly all minor with a few drunken disorderlies, an assault charge that started out as a domestic disturbance call. Nothing too serious, and all of it involved too many drinks and not enough common sense. A common issue with the human side of things. 

Jack shut the door behind them and went over to the couch. From a coffee table that had almost as much rubbish on it as the backseat of Zerbrowski’s car, he fished out a cigarette and a lighter. 

It was such a mess that Harry’s senses were screaming, and there were no other chairs in the room. But, Harry could fix that and waved his hand causing two chairs to appear making Jack flinch. 

“Holy shit, they said that you were a myth.” He stared at the chairs with wide eyes when Harry and Zerbrowski sat. 

“Nope,” said Harry smiling. 

Jack took a long drag from the cigarette and the smoke curled through the room. “What do you need to know?” 

“Why’d you leave the Sapphire early last night?” Harry asked, crossing a leg over his knee and sitting right in front of the man whose eyes kept flickering from him to the mess on his coffee table and almost blushed. 

He shrugged. “It was after eleven, to the church that’s not early.” 

“For you that would be like eleven in the morning, Mr. Benchely, your night has only started.” 

He sighed, and raked a hand through his messy hair. “It was boring,” he admitted with a shrug. “Same girls, same acts. I swear that the strippers were more fun when I could drink.” 

“Maybe it’s the quality?” Harry suggested. “Or the fact that you expect to eat while there. Your blood pressure would probably be at its lowest arriving. So not much would interest you except your hunger.” 

“Not wrong,” said Jack slumping his shoulders. “They sure don’t have them like you at the church. Maybe you could make it better?” 

Harry resisted blushing. “Only at Guilty Pleasures.” 

Jack choked on the smoke. “Seriously?” 

“Just a one time thing. But, really maybe you should search for quality. Just because it’s a gentleman’s club doesn’t mean it’s the best.” He winked playfully. He was trying to make Jack comfortable so he’d answer the questions easier. 

Zerbrowski took that as a comfortable queue to ask Jack a bunch of typical questions. What time? Why? With whom? Was there anyone in the lot that could verify that he got in his truck and didn’t linger in the lot?

He took another drag of his cigarette. “What did I miss? One of the other vamps get out of hand with a dancer? One of the other upstanding church members trying to frame me for it?” 

“We just need to verify everyone, Mr. Benchely, we’re not picking you out of the crowd.” 

“It was that damn Charles wasn’t it?” he snorted. “Fucking hypocrite. At least I don’t pretend to be what I am,” he scowled. “I own it. I fucking own it.” He fished out a ceramic ashtray from the mess on his coffee table and crushed it in causing the smoke to slowly die away. “Did you know he’s a member of their damn club? Did he tell you that?” 

“He didn’t volunteer it.” 

“I bet he didn’t,” once again he was running his hands through his hair. “Did he tell you that he’s the one that recruited me for the damn church?” 

“He didn’t tell us much, but he did seem to like throwing others under the bus,” Harry agreed. It wouldn’t do for a vampire to get angry and lose themselves, especially if they haven’t eaten yet. 

He sighed heavily. “Look I did nothing but go home after a few hours. It wasn’t even worth being fed. Everything is boring. Did you know I have what my counselor calls an addictive personality? Do you know what that means, officers?” 

“It means you’ll become addicted to just about anything.” 

He smiled and really looked at Harry. “Yep. My counselor wouldn’t like that definition, no siree she would not. But yeah, that’s the truth. Some people are lucky, and it’s just that they’re addicted to drinking or smoking or whatever, but for those of us who are just addicted to being addicted, anything will do.”

“Blood lust.” 

He laughed and nodded. “Yeah. I can’t drink liquor but I can still drink. I still like to drink.” He slapped the lighter down on the table. “Everyone thinks you get to be pretty when you’re made over. That you get to be suave and good with the ladies just because you got a pair of fangs.” 

“Only a few get that honor,” said Harry, making Jack laugh. 

“You’re right. I suppose you’d know, hm?” He rubbed his chin. 

“But there’s also a trick that most vampires do get, mesmerizing?” 

“Yeah, I can trick ‘em with my eyes, but legally that’s not a willing feed.” He looked at Zerbrowski as if he represented all the laws that held him down all his life. “If I use vampire tricks, and she comes out of it yelling force. I’m dead. It’s considered sexual assault, as if I’d slipped her a date rape drug. But I’m a vampire, and I won’t see a trial. They’ll give me to you, and you’ll kill me.” 

It was true that he would be executed, but they had amended the law so that a vampire had to have more than one count of gaze-induced blood taking to execute someone. Harry wasn’t sure what to agree or disagree with on this subject because hunger was hunger, and yet force was force. The right side was crying that it was letting sexual predators loose in the community. The far left just didn’t want to agree with the right so they’d help push for the change in the law. Harry sort of thought it was an okay middle ground as some newly awoken vampires can accidentally mesmerize without them even knowing it. It all depended on the circumstances whether Harry would take the case or not. It was one of the good things about being a Federal Marshall that he did like. It was getting a case like this that went into the gray area. He could no longer pick and choose. It was this that made it so important for a new vampire to have a master, to be blood oathed so that he could learn how to charm. 

“I don’t have the money to throw around that the church deacons do,” Benchely continued, “I’ve got to get a woman to donate her blood through charm,” he said the last word like it was a curse. “I know drink ruined my life, but I am a hell of a lot more charming when I’ve had just a few drinks.” 

Harry doubted that. It was likely that his inhibitions were low and he had no filter nor did he care. “Most masters take their vampires aside and teach them how to charm the right way so that they don’t get in trouble for that kind of thing.” 

“Hah, as if Malcolm would do that without the money.” He lit another cigarette, and Harry could see Zerbrowski cringing out of the corner of his eye. Harry hated cigarettes too, but this was Jack’s place, not Harry’s. He shook his head. “The church makes the act of taking blood so tame, and you only get it after listening to their long drawn out sermons on how they are above such sexual endeavors and that blood was to survive not for enjoyment. It makes the food taste like shit.” 

“Are you telling me that Moffat, a deacon of the church, misrepresented what life would be like after you became a vampire?” Harry asked softly. 

“Misrepresented,” He laughed hollowly. “Not exactly. More like he let me come in believing all the stuff in the books and movies, and when I talked about it like it would be that way, he didn’t tell me different. But it is different, real different. I know what you’re going to tell me; that I should have done my homework.” 

“Sorry, but I am thinking it.” And he was apologetic about it. He didn’t look like someone who would follow any sort of church. 

“I think about it all the time.” 

Harry thought it was kind of sickening, and this was why he hated the standard religious practices. All of them were cult like and they hid the truth. It was one thing to have faith, but to blindly believe everything someone was saying. As much as Harry loved Jean-Claude, he didn’t always believe the man, but at least Jean-Claude was realistic in the way that he made no bones about what he expected from his vampires, and what they would get in return. 

But at least other churches if a person didn’t like it, they could leave. Not the Church of Eternal Life, unless they wanted to starve. 

“You didn’t see anyone in the parking lot who could confirm when you left the Sapphire?” Zerbrowski asked, getting them back on track. 

He shook his head. 

“Did you smell anything?” Harry asked curiously. 

That was when his eyes flickered to him in confusion. “What?” 

“You didn’t see anyone or anything, but sight isn’t the only sensory input you’ve got. Sometimes, you can even feel when another is in the room, sense their presence before they’re there. So did you smell anything?” He frowned harder, and that didn’t settle well with him. Harry leaned forward so that they were eye to eye. “You’re a vampire, Jack. If you were human I’d just say what did you see, or hear, but you’re not human. If you didn’t see or hear anything, what did you smell? What did you sense?” 

“I don’t understand?” 

Harry was alarmed. Even a newborn could boast a good amount of sensory perception. “What did they do to you?” he asked in shock. “They made you a vampire and didn’t teach you anything about what you are?” 

“We’re the eternal children of God.” 

Harry was disgusted. He’d never been so disgusted in his life. No way possible this man could have done anything at all. “I am so sorry.” He reached out and touched Jack’s cheek causing the vampire to go from cool to warm. Jack shivered and clasped a hand to Harry’s. “You don’t deserve what’s been done to you.” He let go and stood abruptly. “We should go, Ze.” 

Zerbrowski jolted at this. “We’re done?” 

“Yeah, we’re done,” said Harry morosely. It was hard to keep his feelings under control. What was stopping him from destroying Malcolm? 

_ Everything _ . Harry lamented. He was like the bloody fucking Dumbledore of the vampire world, and it was disturbing. Harry was soon on the cement walkway, and he gripped the railing and stared over down at the pavement. 

“Harry, what’s wrong?” asked Zerbrowski. “Why did we stop?” 

Harry looked at him. “It’s like questioning a five year old, Ze,” he said sadly. 

“I don’t get it.” 

Harry turned. “You spent the night last night in vicinity of a handful of vampires. All of them predators. You knew this going in.” 

“Yeah…” 

“All of them could hear you, feel your pulse, they could sense everything about you. It’s why they liked you.” 

“I don’t get it?” 

“Most vampires can taste, smell, and feel humans before they even walk around a corner. Same with some lycanthropes. That poor bloke in there couldn’t even hear us outside his own apartment. Hell, I bet he couldn’t hear us now. It’s like his claws have been yanked out and left bloody. He might be classified by law as a vampire because of his diet, but he’s not a vampire until he wakes up and becomes an unwilling monster.” 

Zerbrowski rolled what Harry was saying in his head. “I’m trying to understand…” 

“It’s like learning to walk, learning to talk, learning to go to the bathroom, and learning not to put your hands on a stove when it’s turned on. Malcolm had these people turned, and then neglected to give them the proper education to be a decent vampire. By vampire terms, Jack Benchely would be seen as mentally disabled. He can’t do anything.” 

“He’s not getting arrested for drunk and disorderlies anymore.” 

“It’s not the point. You know damn well what happens when children and people are oppressed, what do they do when they come to a breaking point? When they’ve had enough?” 

“Retaliate,” Zerbrowski realized. “Rebel.” 

“Exactly. One of these days that poor bloke is going to give up. He’s not going to care. He’s just going to do what he wants to do. Most vampires, even the babies and those who aren’t beautiful can boast a good amount of grace and elegance. It’s simply their nature, and he has none of that.” He tried to find a proper way to word it. “It’s like how you teach your children to be strong and confident. You teach them to be smart and to look at the world in more than one focus. You want the best for them so that they can get the best because you’re not going to always be there. If you want less murder and mayhem you teach them. You educate them. You don’t neglect and hinder them. If he’s that bad, I hate to wonder how many more are like him. Just neglected and unlearned. What’s going to happen when they all break down?”

Zerbrowski grimaced. “I can see your reasoning. You teach them their skills so they don’t have to use them. You teach them to talk not because you fear they’ll say the wrong thing but because it’s their nature to talk and denying them that is a crime.” 

“I think there should be a law that a master vampire needs to take responsibility for their created vampires and if they don’t they should be held accountable for it. If that man goes out and mesmerizes a woman. Yeah, he should be held accountable, maybe not executed, but his master should be held accountable too because he inevitably starved his vampire.” 

Zerbrowski couldn’t help but chuckle. “I think this is one of the first times I’ve ever used my philosophy major,” he said dryly. 

“You majored in philosophy? Hermione would love you!” said Harry coming down off his sombre high. “Just don’t like seeing that. You know? It’s kind of something similar that I went through, but not went through because I’m not a vampire. But I was oppressed, I was pushed. Malcolm reminds me way too much of Dumbledore, and that is not a comforting thought.” 

“Dumbledore… strange name, is that the one the Minister of Magic eluded to?” 

“Yep. He threw me to the wolves before I knew the wolves even existed.” 

Before Zerbrowski could say anything more his cellphone began to ring. He flipped it open. “Zerbrowsk-” he never even got to finish his name before his smile vanished. “Say again, Arnet, slower… Shit… we’re on our way. Holy items out, they’ll glow if the vampire is close.” He started to run as he flipped the phone close. 

Harry quickly caught up with him scaling down the steps in perfect timing. “What happened?” 

“Woman dead at the scene, vampire missing. Apartment appears empty.” 

“Appears?” 

“Let’s just say I don’t trust Arnet and the others like I do you to have each other’s backs when it comes to this job.” 

“I’d say you’re wrong, but you’re right. When I go in guns slinging I always think of having Edward there at my back.” 

“Who is just around the corner, hm?” 

“Always.”


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy (belated) birthday Harry! Happy birthday as well to the lovely writer BittersweetAlias!! Enjoy the birthday posting. (^_^)

Aside from the murder, Harry didn’t think he’d ever seen a crime scene so neat in all his life. The apartment sat in a very well to do neighborhood. It was light and well decorated, someone had been proud of their home. So very far away from Jack Benchely’s place. It was almost a shock to see the dead woman. 

She lay so close to the door that they’d had to move her arm just to open the door enough to let Arnet and Abrahams inside. Abrahams had transferred from sex crimes. He was standing near the neat, sparkling kitchen with Zerbrowski. Abrahams was tall and thin with dark hair and an olive complexion. 

Arnet was standing beside him looking unusually pale at the trail of blood smeared onto the hardwood surface of the floor. The body was on its stomach, legs slightly spread, and one hand reaching out toward the door. The other arm was folded back where Arnet had to move it when she opened the door. Arnet was staring down at the body. Her eyes were wide, which made her look like some sort of owl with the eye makeup. 

Harry knew better than to ask if she needed to step outside for some air, and so he just let her keep on. He wanted to ask how she knew it was there, but considering the blood was running across the floor it wouldn’t be hard for it to seep beneath the cracks. He had cast spells to keep his white clothes from getting hit by blood. Arnet kept switching from the body to Harry in what she must have thought was a covert manner. 

He did a circle of the woman’s apartment with his hands on his hips, observing the perfectly laid out magazines. He was trying to imagine how this went down. 

Harry knelt down on his fingertips to check between her legs, and sighed when he saw exactly what he suspected. She had bites all over her, two different sizes from what Harry could guess, but the real bite was down below. It was fatal. 

“What are you doing?” Arnet snapped with a startled look on her face. 

“Looking at the body.” 

“What for?” 

Was she serious? “Evidence,” he answered succinctly. 

“So it’s not just dead men you perve over it’s women too?” 

Harry blinked and then blinked again. “What the bloody hell are you talking about?” he asked. 

Her glare on him intensified, and he didn’t rightly care whether she liked him or not. But, he didn’t like being attacked for something he didn’t understand. Before she could answer back, Zerbrowski came back over to them. 

“What do you see Harry?” 

“A sad accident,” said Harry solemnly standing up, and being careful not to step into the blood. 

“Accident?” Zerbrowski blinked. 

“She’s got a partial bite mark on her very inner thigh. Looks like it punctured her femoral.” 

“Why did you say partial? He either bit her or he didn’t.” 

Harry let his hands hang loose thanks to the blood on the tips, and stared down at the woman. “From the way this house is setup and how neat it is, it’s odd that the bed wasn’t made.” He was ignoring Arnet’s intensifying glare. 

Zerbrowski nodded. “You’d be right.” 

“It started there, no surprise. I’m going to go out on a limb and say that the Church of Eternal Life probably doesn’t condone biting during sex, and particularly intimate areas, and so they don’t teach their new vampires how to do it properly without hurting someone. They were probably about to have sex when he bit her, but he’s likely never done this before.” He knelt back down to look. “In fact, I’ll bet he hasn’t and she’s never experienced it, and so when he bit her for the first time she jerked. For lack of a better analogy, it’s like being bitten by a snake. If it’s not poisonous, you’re better off not jerking away. Vampire fangs are recurved not as much as most snake teeth, but still. If you pull away abruptly, you’re going to tear yourself up worse. If you’re biting someone who’s never been bit it’s always best to start on the wrist and elbow. It’s easier to control blood flow that way.” 

Arnet was staring at him wildly, and Zerbrowski frowned. “Don’t do this to me, Harry.” 

“What? It’s logical.” 

“Why would he bite her if they were about to have sex?” asked Abrahams. 

“A vampire just awakening doesn’t exactly have the blood flow or pressure necessary to have sex, especially a young vampire such as Avery Seabrook, and so they often take a bit of blood from their partner. It was bedroom fun gone wrong.”

“I saved the best for last. She’s got a little case in there with what sure as hell looks like a stripper outfit to me. All fringes and not much else. If she’s a stripper, then we’ve got one of our vampires. But, you’re standing here telling me that he didn’t mean to kill her. If that’s true, then he isn’t one of our guys. I’m in the process of getting you a warrant of execution for his ass. I’d hate to have you kill the wrong guy.” 

Sadly it didn’t matter. “The way the law is written, it doesn’t matter whether it’s an accident or intentional.” He folded his hands down in front of him. “He’s dead either way. There is no manslaughter. If a bite kills, he’s dead.” 

Zerbrowski fixed his rims, and looked like he wanted to ask a question. He then turned to Arnet and Abrahams. “Go on outside guys.” 

“What?” Arnet flinched as if startled. She’d been staring at Harry for a long time. “Why?” 

“I said to?” 

Abrahams was already at the door, but Arnet stood her ground. “Why?” 

“I said so. Go!” 

“Then why does he get to stay?” 

He flashed her a humorless smile. “Because I don’t think it’s a good idea to start talking to walls or the dead body. I’m not Duckie Mallard, now go!” 

“We already know he fucks vampires. God knows he fucks everything else!” she sneered. Harry froze at this, and Abrahams was almost gaping at Arnet. Her hands were trembling and the anger seemed to flush over her once pale face turning her bright red. 

“Arnet. If I have to tell you again, you will be off this case,” said Zerbrowski, his voice turning to ice. “Now go!” Arnet stomped out the door, and Harry continued to blink. Zerbrowski turned back to Harry. “What the hell was she talking about?” 

“No idea,” Harry said with equal confusion. “You want to ask if this has ever happened in Jean-Claude’s kiss?” 

He nodded. 

“No, and the reason I know this is because Jean-Claude’s power is in sex. He is the lust vampire. He would have taught them how or he would have forbidden it. Also, unlike Malcolm, he has not made a single vampire since he’s become Master of the City. Most of his vampires are well aged, only Andy and Ellie are young and he didn’t make them. I’m not saying this hasn’t happened, I have no idea what happened during Nikolaos’ days. But with him, no. It doesn’t happen.” 

Zerbrowski was surprised. “Why hasn’t he made any? It is legal.” 

“He doesn’t like the idea of someone throwing their life away. It takes a very special person or connection to be able to become a vampire and be happy with that decision. He’s made them in the past, but he always laments, and wonders what they could have accomplished. What they could have done as a human. Most vampires don’t take just anybody, Ze. If they take someone it’s for a reason. For beauty, sex, lust, power, titles, money, so on and so forth. That’s why most of Jean-Claude’s vampires can boast a beauty that a lot do not have. It’s them they make the films and TV after. It’s them that they portray in magazines. Jean-Claude’s line is very specific. He respects life. It’s why he and Asher ran away from Belle Morte. Something no one did once they were in her grasp.” He waved his hand. “I think this is just a tragedy. It was sex gone wrong because they weren’t taught. If he had meant to rip her femoral open, I think the bite would be different, more vicious. I’ve seen a lot of vamp kills, a lot of bites. This looks like a new vamp, a really new one that doesn’t know how to use its fangs yet. Someone who is two years dead shouldn’t make mistakes like this.” 

“But he did.” 

“Look at Benchely. I’d be really curious to see what kind of education the vampires are getting at the Church of Eternal Life,” said Harry tightly. “I’m surprised this hasn’t happened before, and maybe it has, and it’s been covered up.” 

“Why would they cover it? I mean, would Malcolm risk the coverup of one person?” 

“Probably because the Council doesn’t exactly like what Malcolm is doing.” Not to mention Jean-Claude. “They’ve had issues with it in the past.” 

Zerbrowski looked down at the woman. “She fits the physical profile of the first vic. If you ignore the difference in height, she’s even blond. It fits.” 

“But this one’s not a natural blond.” Harry rolled his eyes when Zerbrowski frowned at him. “I don’t mean it like that. Don’t go all Arnet on me,” he huffed. “Her roots are showing, and I’ve been around Jean and Draco enough to know what that means. I didn’t really check that closely, but it looks like she either shaved everything or had very little body hair to begin with. It’s classic for most strippers to keep all hair off their bodies.” 

“Even the men?” Zerbrowski asked. 

“It depends on if it looks good on them or not. Is it natural in the way that it would be sexy? There’s a fine science to all this, I’m sure Jean could tell you about it.” 

“Does he shave?” 

“Mostly. He’s more a trimmer,” he answered. 

“Oh my God you answered that.” 

“Why not? You asked, and this is a stripper case so it’s kind of relevant, but then they are male strippers. Jason shaves everything just so you know.” 

Zerbrowski doubled over laughing. “I shouldn’t be laughing at a crime scene over a body, but it helps me think.” 

“I don’t think she minds,” Harry assured. “It’s how we keep our jobs. How we keep from turning into stone. You have to find something to laugh about. Something to care about even during a scene like this.” 

“Is her soul here?” Zerbrowski asked curiously. 

Harry circled around the room and reached his senses out. “No. It’s gone. Sometimes they depart instantly and other times they linger.” 

“I want to talk to Avery Seabrook before he gets executed. If he’s part of the other murders, then I want the names of his friends. If he did this by accident, then I think we need to know that, too. If you’re right, and the church isn’t teaching basic vampire 101 safety to its members, then we’ve got hundreds of potential accidental deaths walking around out there tonight. That isn’t good.” 

“True, but as police we can’t go in there with your laws the way they are.” 

“But you can. You are the Master of the City’s mouthpiece aren’t you?” 

Harry smirked. “I was thinking it, but I didn’t think that it was wise to say it.” He’d had a feeling that he would be going to the church. Jean-Claude even thought so if the white he was wearing was anything to go by. 

“I’ll let you bring in Edward.” 

“Ooh, you’re talking about the big guns. Just call him Ted in public.” 

“To prevent accidents like this? Yes,” said Zerbrowski. “I’ll take him. I want him to have our backs. Smith, Abrahams, and Arnet are still completely unprepared for a potential vampire attack. Makes me actually think that someone like Dead Dave would be so clever right now.” He shook his head. 

“I agree with you.” It was nice to hear that Zerbrowski was truly thinking about how a vampire or a shifter in this case might be useful. 

“How would you teach this without risking death?” Zerbrowski asked. 

“They would practice or learn on another vampire or even a shifter. Shifters can heal exponentially fast. So, you’re sure on Edward?” 

“Definitely. Bring him in.” Harry sent a text straight to Edward’s phone. “I heard those are butt dialers, you ever do that?” 

“Not yet,” said Harry grinning. “Draco is always buying me the newest gadget.” 

“Pity for the phone.” Harry laughed out loud as he tucked the phone away. “You should go and make nice with Arnet.” 

“How? I don’t even know what I did, Zeze. It might have something to do with her crush on Nathaniel.” 

“Sounds like high school,” he shook his head. “Are you seeing Nathaniel?” 

He shook his head. “No. He’s my leopard. I take care of him. My men have not changed, all are the same.” 

That was when the door opened and Edward waltzed in wearing his Federal Marshall jacket for emphasis. 

Zerbrowski turned. “What do you see?” 

Edward much like Harry walked the scene silently without a word, and then he carefully looked her body over, including bending down much like Harry had. “Accident.” 

Zerbrowski’s eyes closed. “It’s not similar enough to you?” 

“No. If it was there’d be more bites. He could be part of the Kiss who wanted some alone time with the victim. But no, I don’t think that’s it at all. What are you doing next?” 

“We’re going to the church,” said Zerbrowski. He told Edward everything they’d found, including what Harry had said, which matched Edward's preliminary examination. “I want to speak to this Avery before he’s executed. We could use another Marshall at our backs.” 

“You got it,” said Edward with a nod. 

“But first, can you at least try and talk to Arnet, Harry? Find out what the hell crawled up her ass?” 

“You’re talking about the detective outside crying? I’m impressed, I didn’t take you for the type Sergeant.” 

Zerbrowski grumbled and Harry snickered. “It wasn’t me, though I’m beginning to think it would have been better. Go find out why she’s jealous of you.” 

“I can’t make any promises,” said Harry. 

“I can think of a few reasons,” said Edward. “I recognize her.” 

Harry stopped at the door. “Recognize her?” 

“She was at the club last night. All night.” 

It dawned on Harry, and Zerbrowski looked from one to the other. “What does that matter? I was there for a while.” 

“I danced with a lot of men, including Nathaniel after you left.”

“It was quite a show,” Edward said. 

“I don’t see how it matters, but if she acts like that I’m not letting her anywhere near Nathaniel.” He headed out of the apartment and down a flight of stairs.

A sea of uniformed officers littered the front outside of the apartment complex. There was a coroner’s wagon complete with the coroner waiting to take the body away. They were still waiting for the crime lab. It was quite rare for Harry to arrive on the scene so soon. His gloves were tipped a bloody red, and so he jerked them off carefully. It was full on dark now, but the lights laid out by the police lit the entire front area of the apartment complex. 

One of the newer detectives of RPIT came around the door frame with an open bag in his gloved hands. His name was Smith and Harry had met him once at a scene long ago when he was in uniform. He was fairly comfortable around lycanthropes and it was because of this that he had been hired. 

He smiled. “Looks like I’m just in time,” he said holding the bag out for Harry. 

“Yep, cheers!” 

“Smith!” Smith moved toward Zerbrowski bag still in hands, and because he was so new he was considered the grunt on the squad. 

Harry found Arnet sitting on the curb, the night was cool for June. It was cool and warm at the same time. The halogen light was bright enough that her pantsuit still looked like some shade of brownish burgundy that it had in the apartment. She had her arms around her knees, not exactly clutching them, but obviously not happy. 

Oh boy, how did Harry go about this? 

He didn’t bother to ask and sat down beside her. She flinched, and glared at him sharply. “Great, what the hell are you doing here?” 

“Zerbrowski asked me to.” 

“Fucking him to? What would his wife say to that?” 

“I don’t know, you’d have to ask her,” said Harry not bothering to defend that obviously stupid statement because if anyone had ever met Zerbrowski, no matter how lecherous he was, he was absolutely loyal to Katie. “Besides, I have five minutes to make nice as we’re headed to the church.” 

“Why?” 

“Seabrook may be there and if he’s not I’m sure someone knows.” 

“And how did you come up with these people to ask that won’t offend the law? Not through police work, obviously.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

She licked her lips, hesitated, and then said, “I could work for years as a cop on this kind of crime, and I wouldn’t have your insight into the monsters.” She looked at Harry sideways again. But this time she held the look. “Do I have to fuck the monsters to be as good at this as you are?” 

Harry’s face had remained carefully blank and closed off. “Are you done?” 

She bristled. “I saw you at the club last night!” 

“A lot of people frequent that club. My sweetie owns it.” 

“And because of this you can fuck everything in that club? Including Brandon?” She sneered with disgust. 

“Not that it’s any of your business what I do. So what?” 

“I saw you on stage, and how they were all over you!” 

“So?” 

“I thought I’d go down and see Brandon without you there. I thought maybe if you weren’t there to interfere…” she looked away then, stared out at the parking cars and gawkers being kept back by the uniforms. “But you were there. Oh my God, were you there.” Her voice broke, not with tears, but with emotion. “Is the entire district of monsters all gay or something?” 

“Mostly bisexual with one or two exceptions. It’s an LGBT community. You accept it or you leave,” said Harry flatly. “No exceptions, and yes I frequent the club. I sometimes watch my boys’ sets and watch over them. I protect them as they are mine, and since you decided to use the word monster why the fuck would I even allow Brandon within a foot of you? You do realise that’s his stage name and not his real name, don’t you?” 

“Who do you think you are?” she demanded hotly. 

“He’s mine,” Harry hissed. He had to work to keep the beast inside of him from rising, and something must have shown on his face because she leaned away from him, a flicker of fear flashing across her face before she could mute it. “All of the wereleopards, they are all mine. I’m not a lycanthrope, but they belong to me. I protect them. I am their leader, and you have to go through me if you want to date one of them, and as it stands now, I wouldn’t let you near any of them. I wouldn’t let someone who uses the word monster so liberally get anywhere near Nathaniel. He’s mine. Not yours. Get over it and find yourself a human. Not my leopard.” He stood abruptly when he saw a news van. “Smith!” Harry shouted over his shoulder. “Let Ze know we have a news van!” 

Smith went rushing back inside as Arnet stood. “You can’t keep me away from him.” 

“Like hell I can’t. You’d also have to go through his Nimir-Raj.” 

“His - what?” 

“His King. I’m his Queen, and the King is one you will have to go through. You can also go through the Gardien if you don’t like my decision.” He’d like to see that one. 

“Gardien? What the hell are you babbling about? He has free will. He can do what he wants!” 

“See? You can’t even understand lycanthrope culture let alone think you have a right to seek him out, and then get pissed at me for no real reason when you don’t know a damn thing. He’s not a monster, but he’s not human. Shifters have their own culture and tradition, and you’re far too conceited to even try and understand it without using the term monster.” 

“I didn’t call him a monster.” 

“But you called his culture a monster.” 

Arnet scowled. “Maybe he shouldn’t be in that culture then! It’s toxic.”

“And you know this how?” Harry challenged. “It’s a culture that accepts him for who and what he is. He’s a shifter. He’s a wereleopard, and I won’t let people like you who are interested in just his body and face to try and turn him into your ideal human when he is not. I don’t care who you are, and frankly it’s none of your damn business who or what I do. So suck it up and stop acting like a sixteen year old. We’re at a crime scene, not high school.” 

He didn’t bother to wait around as Zerbrowski and Edward stepped out of the apartment building to a flooded street, the newscasters were attempting to work their way into the massive crowd that had gathered. “Harry!” Zerbrowski yelled. 

“Coming!” He left Arnet standing at the curb. He couldn’t care at all if he hurt her feelings. It was on her. 

“We’re heading to the church.” All of them avoided the crowd of looky-looks and the news reporter working fast to try and get them on camera. 

“I’ll follow behind,” said Edward with a nod, and everyone was quiet until they got to their cars. 

“Did you fix it?” 

“I doubt it,” Harry confessed, sliding into the passenger’s seat. “Sorry, but she used the word monster and I can’t let her anywhere near Nathaniel.” 

Zerbrowski frowned. “What did she say?” 

“She got in my face for fucking  _ monsters _ , and then went on and on about Nathaniel. I told her in no uncertain terms that her using language like that was not endearing herself to me in the slightest. I have to protect him from people like her. Nathaniel still has issues saying no. I told her if she had an issue with it to go through the King and Gardien.” 

“King and Gardien?” 

“I’m considered the Queen.” Zerbrowski grinned at this, and Harry rolled his eyes. “Don’t say it,” he scowled as he buckled himself in. 

“And who is the King and Gardien?” 

“Micah and Edward. Micah is the Nimir-Raj, I’m the Nimir-Ra, and Edward is the Gardien. Gardien is an old term. Most don’t even have a Gardien anymore, but considering almost all my leopards are submissives, who have been broken over and over again, Edward is the unannounced Gardien. The only alphas came from Micah’s old pard that has joined with mine. Edward didn’t ask for the role, but you know. It stuck, and it makes them feel protected. The leopards are a very tight knit group because they’re so small, and they’ve been hurt and abused at some point,” he said sadly. “Normally, I’d let Nathaniel be with whomever he wants within reason. Yes, we have to ask and make sure the person he’s seeing is safe and good for him, and Arnet is not one of those who will ever be either.” 

“She’s not violent.” 

“No, but she used the word monster too many times for my liking. It’s like people who call women bitches or whores for speaking their minds and doing what they want to do.” 

“You’re a Queen of the Leopards, but you’re not a leopard shifter? Nor female, but I can ignore that part.” He grinned at this.

“No, I’m not,” said Harry as they drove off toward the church. Edward was right behind them now. “But, they are mine. I protect them. I love them all like they were my children. Hell, they are my children. She’s just upset because they all danced with me last night.” 

“All?” 

“Buzz, Nathaniel, Jason, Micah, and Seth.” Although, Harry wasn’t sure if that could be called dancing. Harry had pretty much grinded on them. He couldn’t really dance, but he knew how to have sex. So it worked. 

“Wow, talk about a stripping royale!”

“They stripped me,” Harry defended making Zerbrowski laugh. “I was tied up. It was Jean-Claude’s way of apologizing for a stupid mistake he made. I had no idea what was going on! That was a one time thing.” Unless they did it again. It had been fun, but he’d never do that alone. No way. 

“Mistake?” 

“Yeah. My relationships aren’t perfect you know. All of us screw up.” 

“Almost seems like it. You all get along so well,” Zerbrowski said as they stopped at a glowing red-light. “Katie mentioned how perfect you all seem to compliment each other. Like a well oiled machine or something.” 

“That’s because airing dirty laundry in public is just not nice. We have our own issues. Sometimes we forget to communicate, and that can cause problems. Also, before Jean, Edward, and Micah I was never in a relationship with anyone. Not really, so I don’t know rules sometimes and we often trample over them without realizing what we’ve done until one of us is hurt or upset. Remember I told you Jean-Claude’s bloodline is all about sex and lust?” 

“I remember. I still remember that night when we went out, and Jason had to pin you down because you were attacked by something sexual? I’m still trying to understand that. I recognize that it was the head of his bloodline?” 

“Yeah, well because of my connection with Jean-Claude I have this thing where I have to have a lot of sex, and I can’t always have sex with the same person twice in a row without exhausting them. So I have to have friends with benefits around.” 

“What do you mean, you have to have a lot of sex?” 

“It’s called the ardeur. It’s like having an Incubus or Succubus in you. It spreads lust and desire. It feasts on the lust of others, and requires sex. More like sex-lust rather than bloodlust. It runs in Jean-Claude’s line. I think I’m the only human to ever capture it.” 

Zerbrowski’s eyes widened. “That can have some serious consequences.” For once the man wasn’t being amusing. 

“Yep, it’s why I have friends with benefits.” 

“Jason?” 

“He’s the only one I agreed to. We’ve been battling over this since it began, and I’ve been fighting it. Jason was a compromise because he’s a great friend of mine, and would never take it to a serious level. Jean, Edward, and Micah are all I really want.” 

“What about Dr. Fletcher?” 

“Him too, but I need my three. I need them like you need Katie. I don’t need Marcus more than he needs me. Still love him, but…” Harry was trying to find the right words. “I mean, I adore him. He’s a wonderful man, but I don’t need him.” 

“I getcha,” said Zerbrowski. 

“But, Jean-Claude sent a couple of people to me that weren’t appropriate, and we got into a huge fight over it. It’s fine now, but I hadn’t been too happy with the outcome. Sometimes, the lust can be overwhelming and it’ll take no prisoners. It’ll take anything in the vicinity, even what I don’t want.” 

Zerbrowski whistled. “You must be fun in bed.” 

“Too much,” said Harry grinning. “See, I wouldn’t like it if they were with others, and so it’s still bothering me that I have to sometimes take an alternate. It really messes with my head, so I don’t feed enough when I’m away from my men and when I don’t it can get out of control. Jason can’t always be my alternate, he’s Jean-Claude’s pomme de sang.” 

“That’s apple of blood right? His go to food source for blood. I remember writing that down.” 

“Yeah. It’s caused a few incidents. Ones I’d rather not think about. I’ve been able to manage it for the most part, but I didn’t really want to be with a stranger. It was essentially what happened to me. A stranger who is heterosexual was sent to me. Not something I wanted.” 

“Why did he send a stranger?” 

“He knew him. He’s very trusted, but I didn’t know him. I didn’t want to be with anyone who wasn’t at least into men. I didn’t want to force anyone into any situation; because like I said, the lust can take over anyone without care for who it’s attacking. Jean-Claude didn’t realize what he’d done until he almost paid the price.” 

“Price?” 

“It’s best not talked about. Least to say I don’t think he’s going to do that again.” 

Zerbrowski sighed. “You have a complicated life.” 

“Tell me about it.” It was really nice talking about this with someone who had an outside view. He sometimes talked a lot with Jason, but Jason’s view was a bit more skewed. Still didn’t stop him from supporting Harry in every way possible, but with Zerbrowski it was nice. 

He hoped it didn’t backfire on him. 

“Is this safe for you?” Zerbrowski asked in concern. 

“For the most part, but it can get out of hand if I don’t monitor it. It’s why these days I always have someone trailing behind me. Jean-Claude runs Guilty Pleasures, why do you think that is?” 

Zerbrowski thought about it. “He can feed on it?” 

“You don’t have to have total contact to feed on it if you’re experienced. He can feed on the lust remotely around the room. As if he’s breathing in air. It helps him keep control, last night when I was dancing with the men on stage he was inevitably teaching me how to remotely feed. It’s not satisfying, but it helps. Like a snack.” 

Zerbrowski burst out laughing. “So it’s like having a Snickers bar.” 

“Erm, yeah.” Harry shook his head. 

“I can’t imagine what that power could do in the wrong hands.” 

“Wars have been started over it, entire regimes have been upturned in the past. Of course the council doesn’t let Belle Morte do all that anymore, but it’s more potent than rage and oftentimes more powerful. Everyone has a lust, it doesn’t have to be sexual and the ardeur knows this. It seizes it.” 

Zerbrowski whistled. “So what happens if you don’t feed it?” 

“Do you remember how sick I got?” Zerbrowski nodded. “That was when Belle Morte’s envoy was feeding from my energy.” 

“Can she still do that?” 

“No. As I said, Jean-Claude is now strong enough to be his own bloodline. She can’t do that without breaking dozens of rules and getting the rest of the council on her arse, and not in the way that she would want. I also managed to get one of the strongest members of the council on our side. I won’t say he’s a good guy, but he has common sense, and he likes us.” 

“Politics suck.” 

“Yes,” Harry agreed. “Most Masters in America hail from one of the council members. It’s what makes them so damn powerful.” 

The parking lot of the church was so full that Zerbrowski and Edward had to park in front of the church in the fire only zone. Marconi and Smith were in the car behind them along with two marked cars. It seemed that Edward and Zerbrowski had been planning their strategy while he was giving Arnet a piece of his mind. Abrahams and Arnet had been left in charge of the murder scene. 

Zerbrowski ordered two uniforms to station themselves at the doors with their holy items out. “Nobody leaves, unless you clear it with me. Is that clear?” It was definitely clear. 

Marconi shook his head. “Commanding presence tonight, Zerbrowski.” 

Smith was new enough that his eyes were all sparkly, and he was almost vibrating with an eagerness that didn’t make Edward very happy. He was like a dog straining at the leash. Both of them knew that trigger happy people tended to end up blowing someone’s head off, and nine times out of ten it was themselves. 

Edward reminded them that there was another door at the parish hall entrance, and since they had enough manpower to cover it, Zerbrowski just nodded and said. “Do it.” A bit like Dolph, but it worked well. The other two went toward the parish hall front entrance. 

Edward was checking over his weapons. “How are you going to play this Little Raven?”

“I’m not sure. It depends on what happens with Malcolm.” He knew Edward hated on the fly planning, and the narrowing of his eyes told him this. “I really can’t predict what he’s going to do. I don’t even know what we’re going to find.” 

“So do we go in bold or quiet?” 

“They know we’re here, Zeze. At least the ones near the back,” said Harry. “At least I hope they know we’re here. For Merlin’s sake, I’ll laugh if they don’t.” 

“They can hear us?” Marconi asked nervously. He kept playing with his belt. Another negative point in the column of St. Louis. Harry could just feel Edward’s judgment. 

“Yes they can, if he hasn’t crippled all of them. However, to be polite, we should ask someone in the back to get Malcolm’s attention for us.” Harry made his way to the doors. Before he finished scaling the steps a man slipped outside. He had short brown hair and glasses. It was Bruce, one of Malcolm’s human ushers.

Bruce eased the door shut behind him, before everyone had more than a glimpse of people turning to stare. His brown eyes were still as plain behind his glasses as Harry thought the first time he had met him, and there were still healing bite marks on his neck.  _ Guess he hasn’t made the leap yet. _

"You are interrupting our worship service." His voice was soft, measured.

"Hi Bruce." Harry offered the man a polite smile. 

His eyes widened just a little. "Surprised you remember me Mr. Potter-Black."

"Marshall Potter-Black, actually. You remember Marshall Forrester too, don’t you?"

Bruce’s eyes did that little widening act again; flickering back and forth between Harry and Edward. "Do I say congratulations?"

"Is he stalling?" Zerbrowski asked.

"In a way," Harry said, staring Bruce down. "He doesn't want us to interrupt the services, but I don't think he'd deliberately hide a murderer."

That got them another eye widening. "Murderer? What are you talking about? We of the church do not advocate violence in any aspect of our lives."

"There's a dead woman in the home of one of your members who would argue that, if she could," Zerbrowski said.

Bruce winced. "Are you certain that it is the home of one of our members?" 

“Do you think we’d be here otherwise?” Edward asked in his friendly Ted voice. Harry still mentally stabbed it, he hated hearing Edward play as Ted.

Bruce looked down at the ground, then nodded, as if he'd decided something. "If you will remain near the back of the church, I will tell Malcolm what has happened."

Zerbrowski looked at Harry and Edward as if to ask if that was okay. Harry shrugged, "Sure Bruce. We’ll try not to be too distracting."

“You do know what you’re wearing don’t you? How are you not going to be distracting?” Zerbrowski teased.

“Hush now, I did say too distracting.” Harry teased back.

Bruce smiled, obviously relieved. "Good, good, please keep your voices low. This is a church, and we are having services."  _ As if we’d forget. _ Harry rolled his eyes. Bruce led the way through those highly polished doors. The uniforms stayed outside, but Marconi and Smith followed Zerbrowski, Harry, and Edward in.

There was no vestibule inside the doors. The doors led directly into the nave, so the group was just suddenly facing pews packed full of congregation members. The vampires close to the doors were already glancing back. Nosy in life, nosy in afterlife.

Bruce motioned for the guys to stay where they were, then walked wide around the pews up the side underneath the red and blue abstract stained glass windows. Where there should have been saints or the stations of the cross in a normal church there was nothing but the bare white walls. 

Zerbrowski rocked back and forth slightly with a smile in place, the good-to-meet-you smile. Harry hadn’t quite realized it was his version of a blank face until recently. Marconi looked bored. A lot of cops perfect that I've-seen-worse boredom after a few years on the force. Smith's face was all shiny with excitement like a kid on Christmas morning. He was looking around at everything and totally not bothered by the staring crowd. Most cops don't get to see inside the Church of Eternal Life much, or see hundreds of vampires in one place at one time. Edward casually leaned against one wall, Ted out in force, nodding politely to the vampires that had turned to see them enter. Harry made sure he was in the middle of the four men, his all white outfit made sure that he was the first thing everyone saw when they looked back. He took a step forward, and slowly began to release some of his tightly controlled magic. 

The stir in the room was almost immediate, heads began to turn, and nearly every vampire drew in a breath when they saw him, felt his magic flow through the open church. Harry smiled serenely. A furious round of whispers spread through the room until it crashed against the pulpit and the empty altar area at the front of the church. 

Malcolm had been standing on the altar, but was already stepping from behind it and moved to one side so that he could meet Bruce. Even the steps leading up to it were white, and Harry now had a good idea as to why Jean-Claude put him in white. 

Sneaky bastard. 

Harry noticed that the only real thing of color was the brilliant royal blue cloth that hung in the back of the sanctuary. He wondered what happened to be behind that? It was a year or so ago that the building had been fire-bombed by right-wing extremists. The attack hadn’t stopped the church. Instead the attack had gotten the Church of Eternal Life some of it’s best national and international coverage ever, and donations had flooded in from people that were not so much for vampires as they were against violence. It was good in theory, but Harry couldn’t help but wonder what that money went to. 

Malcolm wasted no time quickly speaking to Bruce, as Harry’s magic continued to flow out drawing stirs from the congregation, and then hurried to meet Harry in the middle of the aisle. His blond curls were the first thing one noticed about Malcolm, and how bright yellow they happened to be. 

He was also tall and painfully thin making Harry feel more filled out in the flesh than Malcolm. He was wearing a black suit tonight, modest cut, and thanks to Jean-Claude and Draco, Harry knew that while simple it had been perfectly tailored to his lean body. All of Harry’s clothes were tailored too so no one could fault a guy. 

The shirt was a blue that helped point out that his eyes were the blue of a robin’s eggs. His tie was narrow and black with a silver tie bar, unadorned. Up close, once a person got past the hair and the eyes, Malcolm had a rather angular face, almost homely. 

Harry still remembered meeting Malcolm years ago. He’d been none to pleased when Harry had made friends with Jean-Claude, and had at one point tried to sway Harry to the church. But, Harry was not and never would be the religious sort, and Malcolm just rubbed him the wrong way. 

Malcolm was the type of master who had prided himself on not using his powers on humans, but it was obvious that he wasted enough on himself to seem handsome. Harry had never bought into it. He could see through most vampire glamors to get to the real face. It’s what had impressed Jean-Claude after all. 

Malcolm held out one of his big hands, and Harry instantly took it to show that it was him in charge, not Zerbrowski. Good thing Zerbrowski wouldn’t take it personally. Dolph on the other hand would have. 

Malcolm hesitated in the middle of the shake as if Harry had surprised him, but he recovered smoothly, smiling, his blue eyes glowing with pleasure at the opportunity to help the police. It was a lie. He didn’t want them there. He certainly didn’t want a murder involving his church. Harry felt nothing as their hands touched, except that he was cool, so he hadn’t fed recently. Other than that, there was very little. 

But then a soft fuzzy sensation began to trail down his arm as if someone had taken a vibrating rod to it. Harry could have thwarted it with ease, but he was curious exactly what kind of power Malcolm had. No one knew as he never used it outwardly. So he let it flow and followed it with his own magic. He noted that Malcolm was trying to read him. Read his mind, and instead of letting him, he pushed his own shields into a sharp sword and shoved it hard into Malcolm causing him to stumble backward with a gasp. Harry kept his grip on the man’s hand to keep him on his feet. 

Harry shoved more magic into him, more of his power, and wrapped it around the core and soul of Malcolm. All the while he was still smiling serenely. Malcolm on the other hand had made an unintentional noise. His mouth open with surprise. 

“Is something wrong, Malcolm?” Harry purred, drawing the master vampire closer to him. He formed a link between the two of them, bringing him so close that they could almost kiss. He could taste and feel every single human and vampire in the room as though they belonged to Jean-Claude. He brushed along each and every member with a thread of his magic. Harry learned Malcolm’s secrets, how he transformed the humans to vampires. All of the humans had mentors, but it was Malcolm’s three bites that finished them, and transformed them. 

He licked his magic and power against the pulse of all the vampires, and noted how hungry and oppressed they were. Some heart-beats were so slow as if it had been so long since some of them had fed as they were meant to feed. It was almost like Itzpapalotl and her starved kiss all over again. He didn’t let them hunt. He didn’t even let them go to the clubs and take willing food there. Harry saw an endless stream of church members garbed in white, like virgin sacrifices, offering their necks. Only taking a little blood, just enough, but never enough to satisfy themselves. Just enough not to die. 

He could see the bowl in the middle of the parish hall, and he knew that it contained just a little blood from at least three different vampires. Malcolm made sure of that. He didn’t want to accidentally blood oath them to someone else. But he never used his own blood for fear of what it could do. 

Malcolm tried to jerk away, but Harry didn’t let him. “Unhand me.”

Harry, still smiling, trailed some of his magic over every single vampire member in the room causing them to moan, bristle, or sit up straight. He tasted two that were not of Malcolm’s blood. The two of them pulsed with more power than the rest. He rolled his magic over them, tasting and feeling as though he were a leopard in a pile of fur. He felt one of them metaphysically react back. Harry slipped past those two and brushed up against the soul of a young female vampire with long dark hair and glasses. It was the first vampire Harry had ever seen with glasses. She was grabbing at her chest, and he knew why. Harry had made her heart beat faster and faster. He did it with everyone else in the room. Giving them just a taste of his power, a taste of what they were missing. Harry saw within the girl’s mind that she had once been human, and she’d knelt and given herself over, but it was a thing of chaste hands on her covered shoulders. No one had ever held her close, gripped her against their bodies, fed so powerfully that her body bucked against them, and sex was a pale thing compared to it. 

And then he found Avery Seabrook. He smelled of sex to the point that it startled Harry’s beasts. All of them inside were aware and stirring to life. 

“Stop it!” Malcolm gasped. “Let them go.” 

Harry licked his lips as though he were hungry while tasting each of them. “You gave them to me. My power is greater than yours, and I’m not even a vampire,” He smiled angelically. 

“Harry, what’s happening?” Zerbrowski stepped up close to Harry. 

Edward was still leaning against a column having made no move, just watching the show. He was likely memorizing each face in the church as well. In case he needed to hunt them down. 

“It’s nothing, Sergeant. Just trading powers,” said Harry sweetly. “Could you come here please Avery.” 

Instantly, the left side rippled, and Avery stood. He was of average height with short brown hair, and a face that was handsome in a soft unfinished way like Byron had been. Merlin, he was a fucking kid! Harry resisted growling at Malcolm in disgust. He should be serving the warrant to Malcolm, not this kid. Not this unfinished kid who had no idea what he was getting into. 

Malcolm let out a cry of surprise, and Harry let him jerk away. His hand was entirely burned. “What did you do to me?” He clutched his hand, his fingertips were like charcoal. 

“My rage. It’s your fault,” Harry hissed. “It’s all your fault that I’m here.” He waved his hand causing Avery to move toward them, his head was down, and shame wrapped around him like a cloak. 

“Don’t go!” A human woman tried to grab him, but he jerked away from her. 

“Keep your seat,” Harry ordered, and the woman was pushed back down into the pew with a bare flick of his magic. “Come to me, Avery,” he commanded softly. 

That was when Malcolm’s rich voice filled the room, laced with a power. “Children, stop him. Stop him from answering this heathen’s call. He is the Master of the City’s whore. He will corrupt our Avery.” 

But Harry waved his hand causing Malcolm to go flying into the side of the pew. “You’ve already ruined them. Do shut up. It’s your fault I am here. It’s your fault I have to execute a warrant against a kid vampire that you turned. Your lack of education is despicable, and now you have no choice but to watch as one of your own has to pay for your stupidity.” His power lashed out over every vampire in the room, and they all cried out in fear of him. Avery came right up to Harry, no one in the church could move, held back by his power as they were. 

“Release them!” Malcolm growled. 

“No. Not until I’m done,” said Harry. He saw that Avery was smiling at him, and he didn’t look in the least bit scared. He also tasted Avery on his tongue, the cologne and sex was fresh. He rolled it around his own mind, and Avery began to shiver as though he experienced it. It felt like Avery was a part of him suddenly. 

It was then his own eyes widened in realization, and he turned to see Edward was standing there. “Did I-?” He couldn’t finish it. 

“You did, Little Raven. Good going,” said Edward observing Avery.  _ “Might be for the best.”  _

He wouldn’t feel it right now if Harry just openly killed him, but then he remembered Zerbrowski wanted to question him. 

Harry leaned closer and looked into Avery’s eyes until he got into the vampire’s mind. He could taste sadness from him, but he didn’t feel like someone who had just killed a woman, on purpose or by accident. Could Harry be wrong? Or was he not alone in the spotless apartment? 

In that moment, his expression changed to sadness. It seemed his emotions changed with every flick of his mind. Harry didn’t flinch when there was a knock on the church doors. The sound startled everyone. A voice called out. “Sergeant Zerbrowski?” 

Zerbrowski went to the door and peeked out. When he came back through, he had a piece of paper in his hand. It was thicker than it used to be, but most of the additions were things that would keep Harry out of jail and wouldn’t do a damn thing for Avery’s health. 

Harry took it numbly. He opened it and read it with Edward looking over his shoulder. It was pretty standard. Harry could legally hunt down and execute the vampire or vampires responsible for each of the victims. Harry was given permission to perform his duties by any means necessary, and that included magic. The bearer of this warrant was allowed to enter any and all buildings in pursuit of the suspects. Any person, or persons, human or otherwise that stood in the way of the lawful execution of his duty would forfeit their rights under the Constitution of these United States and the State of Missouri. There was other legal jargon, but it all boiled down to the fact that Harry could kill him, and nothing could legally stop him. Harry’s heart hurt at the idea of killing such a kid. He had to make one hundred percent certain before any moves were made. 

“I can make it quick if you like,” Edward said over the silence. 

Harry raised his gaze to Edward, noting that his ice blue eyes were empty. He was not a merciful hunter in the slightest, and normally Edward would be spiteful over Harry’s hesitation and feelings for someone he thought was innocent. But not this time. He showed nothing on his face, but Harry had become really good at reading nothing. He realized that the two of them had come a very long way. Edward did not want Harry to be Edward. Harry was Harry and he had to stay that way. It’s why Edward was going to kill him yesterday night. He didn’t want Harry any other way. 

_ Communication without communicating. How nice.  _

“I need to make sure he’s guilty before I do anything else. I’m not going to take the life of anyone innocent.” 

Malcolm seemed to gather strength from whatever arse he could pull it from, and came forward. “I would like to see that warrant. If it concerns my church and followers.” Harry flung it open in front of him, though he held onto it without a word. His eyes flicked down the page, and he shook his head. “And you call us monsters.” 

“I’ve never called you a monster, this is your fault,” said Harry clearly. 

“How is it my fault?” 

“You oppress them. You take away all that makes them vampires, Malcolm. They are not human, but they are also not monsters. They are vampires, and it’s because of your failing to teach your members the very basics of what they are that you have potentially subjected them all to every Federal Marshall in the country! You pretend like they’re better than every other vampire. You pretend as if they are so high above others that they don’t need to answer to their base needs and wants, and you call us the monsters? You’ve maimed them. You’ve turned them impotent. All of these vampires,” Harry gestured around the church, “and you’ve made them weak. You’ve made it so that this is going to keep happening. Your fault. All your fault, Malcolm, and one of these days there’s going to be an order of execution for you, and I’ll happily serve it. But until then. You can shut up and stand there and let me do my job so I hopefully get the right one responsible.” 

Malcolm scowled. “How dare you, child. You are in my sanctum! You brought your filth into my sanctum. I teach them all good clean values.” 

“They’re not human, you half-wit!” Harry snarled. “They’re vampires! But even then, Marconi, what’s your favorite food?” 

“Erm… steak?” Marconi answered. “You know, a nice western style with the marbling?” 

“And if you get it, how much of it do you eat?” 

“Way more than I care to admit,” said Marconi with a half smile. 

Harry turned and glared back at Malcolm. “You’re starving them. You’re shaming them for doing what is in their nature. You’re not even giving them free will to ask or take from willing donors. You’re not even giving them the tools to be happy. You’re just letting them survive, barely. How the fuck can they can follow you? You’re nothing special. You’re hardly a master yourself.” He didn’t bother with Malcolm anymore. 

He turned to Avery, and in that moment he knew exactly what he had to do, and somehow he had the knowledge to do it. He could feel Jean-Claude settling in his mind, that soft ardeur scent playing deep inside of him, and he drew Avery closer. “May I?” 

“Yes, please!” Avery pleaded, and with that admission, Harry kissed him before Malcolm could try and stop it. He drew Avery into his arms, and clutched him by the cheeks, and he poured his power through the kiss and Harry felt as though he’d slipped beyond Avery’s mouth deep inside of him. 

It was like a camera view of a memory. A bit different than Legilimency offered. It was slow and gentle, Harry could sense everything happening. He could smell the sex and alcohol, and taste the need. Harry began to see the memories through Avery’s eyes. A glimpse down at his body showed that he was naked, and both women, their victim and a brunette, were also naked. 

The other vampire was a master, and he took the name from Avery’s mind. Her name was Nellie. She had the same soft unfinished look about her. She wasn’t part of the church that was for sure. She’d brought the stripper who Avery knew as Morgana. 

He watched them together, and suddenly had access to everything that Nellie had said to him. She’d talked about her master, whom Avery had never met. Her master, who was a real master vampire, not Malcolm. Someone who knew how to hunt, how to feed, how to be a true predator. Avery had tried to distance himself from her, but she pursued him hard. The thought led to a memory of Nellie and another female vampire. The second vampire looked enough like Nellie to be her sister, almost a twin. Her name was Nadine, and she was much younger, much weaker. But they looked alike, and the moment Harry saw that, he realized that they also looked like Avery. They all had the same soft, brown hair, the same oval faces and pale brown eyes. 

They had been fighting, arguing about how Nadine didn’t want to share Nellie on a regular basis. Avery had used that as an excuse to distance himself again, but then Nellie showed up that night at the club. She had Morgana in tow, they offered, and he didn’t say no. Harry could taste his guilt, it was strong and sweet like the sex he enjoyed. He knew she was dangerous, but he was hungry. His needs were strong, and the desire thick enough that it could have choked them. 

He’d fed on the woman, fed at her neck, then had sex with Nellie. He thought the evening was over, but Nellie started to go down on the other woman. She wanted to feed from her thigh. Feed in that most intimate of places, but something about it panicked him. 

Maybe it was the look in the other vampire’s eyes. Soft brown in color, but what they both saw in those eyes was hard and dangerous, and he knew that if he didn’t get up and go, that she would talk him into anything, everything. 

He grabbed his clothes, fled the bedroom, dressed in the living room, and left Morgana alive and happy in bed with Nellie. He went to the church and took one of the coffins they had in the basement for emergencies. He’d been working up to tell Malcolm about Nellie and her scary offer. About a master vampire who knew how to hunt. A master who was actively recruiting the church members for his scary little group. But Avery had been waiting until after church services. 

And then Harry pulled back, both had dropped to their knees. Avery moaned in distress as Edward pulled Harry by the elbow back to standing. “Please don’t… stop…” he begged, his eyes swirling hungrily.

“He’s innocent,” said Harry calmly, ignoring the odd taste on his lips. “Is there anyone in the church tonight that joined Nellie and her master?” He asked. 

“Yes,” he said, in a voice that was still whispery and hungry from the kiss. “J-Jonah, Nellie said Jonah had met her master and liked him. She offered a three-way with Jonah and me and her. I said no.” 

“He’s moving!” Edward barked, releasing Harry and drawing his gun faster than the rest of the police. Zerbrowski and the others moved in close, and Harry saw just in time one of the vampires bounding over the backs of the pews. His feet barely touching the wood, using it to bounce himself farther away. Almost like levitation, but not quite. He wasn’t able to fly. 

“Parish Hall!” Harry shouted. “Do not kill Avery. He’s innocent!” He moved with his wand out to back up Edward. 

Edward fired causing a lot of the vampires and humans to dive to the ground. The bullet seared into the running vampire’s shoulder, but that didn’t stop him. “Move or be shot through,” Edward growled, but everyone was panicking. Most had likely never heard a gun go off, and now there was screaming and scattering. 

“Get down, dammit!” Harry shouted when they wouldn’t move out of Edward’s line of sight. “Catch him, bollocks!” But he made it to the door and Harry couldn’t risk the shot like Edward. Then Harry noticed two vampires were right behind the runner, they were the two that had felt different, stronger than the others. 

Pushing through the crowd was harder than it looked, Edward shot his gun at their feet making them scramble, but they were almost too late. There was a fight going on at the end of the hallway. 

One dark and one blond had caught up to Jonah, and seemed to be winning. They had him on the ground, though the dark-haired vampire was on the ground too. Edward cleared the door, gun in a two-handed grip with Zerbrowski right behind him. “Police, everybody freeze!” 

Everyone hesitated, and that was not a good thing because the moment the dark-headed vampire froze Jonah’s hand to shoot out of nowhere and a silver blade hit the dark one in the chest. Something about the blow staggered the blond because he went to his knees beside his friend. 

Edward shot at Jonah as he rolled through the door instead of standing up. “I’ll get him. You deal with this mess,” Edward went running out after them. 

“Zeze, you follow Edward. I’ve got this.” 

Zerbrowski didn’t hesitate. He threw over his shoulder. “His orders are mine!” And just like Edward he was gone. 

The blond was kneeling over his friend, his strong broad back almost blocking Harry’s line of sight. The blond’s shoulders had slumped and he turned a tear-stained face to Harry. Faint reddish-pink tracks down his face where the blood in his own tears had marked him.

The dark headed one lay on his back, blinking wide gray eyes up at him. The eyes were the only thing pale about him. Longish dark hair, and the beginnings of a beard around a wide mouth. Both reminded him of someone off Lord of the Rings. He could taste the warrior metal on his tongue just looking at them. Both wore soft boiled leathers, not for clubbing, but for protection. Harry moved to the other side of the man. 

“Don’t you have a murderer to get?” the blond asked in a flat empty voice that betrayed his face. 

“Edward’s on it,” he said to him as if the blond knew Edward. “He never fails,” he added. “I have to help you take care of your friend.” He could see that it was a heart blow. The blood welled out around the blade, soaking into the man’s clothing. It was bleeding a hell of a lot, which meant either he’d fed tonight or it was a bad injury or both. 

“It’s pointless. He is dying, nothing you can do about it,” said Malcolm. 

“Nothing is pointless you self-righteous prick. So step back and let me handle it,” Harry hissed. “Merlin, I hate self-righteousness. I’ve seen vampires survive worse.” 

“You’ve seen masters survive worse. He is not a master.”

“He gets power from his line, his master,” said Harry. “It isn’t always about personal power.” 

“Truth and Wicked have no masters, do you?” 

The blond looked at Malcolm, and Harry saw that there was a hopelessness on his face. Harry scowled. “If you have something important to say, Malcolm, say it.” 

“They are masterless. The master that made them died, and the sourdre de sang that created their line was destroyed too. They survived the destruction of their line, but it weakened them.” 

Harry glowered at Malcolm. “And yet you didn’t blood oath them. If you had, they’d have a master right now.” 

“I allowed them into my church. Most masters would kill them.” 

“Why?” 

The vampire on the ground answered. “They fear us,” in a strangled voice. 

The blond shook his head. “Don’t talk, brother. I will talk for you. They fear that if other vampires knew we survived the slaying of our entire bloodline, then others might wonder if they could kill those that enslave them, too, and survive. Truth is my brother.” 

Harry placed his hands on Truth’s chest, the cooling blood flooded out his palms, seeping between his fingers, and he closed his eyes. 

“It’s useless, Marshall…” 

“Shut the fuck up before I shut you up!” Harry growled as he concentrated, letting some of his own energy flow into the wound, and there it was. He felt the energy slowly began to fade, felt the soul shuddering. He opened his eyes. “I may be able to save him.” He looked at the man who was obviously named Wicked. “But I have to pull the blade out.” 

“How?” 

“Blood oath.” 

“But you’re not a vampire. You are a master something, of that I recognize,” said Wicked flatly. “But you are not a master vampire.” 

“Lucky for you I have many tools at my disposal.” He kept his hands around the wound to keep the soul inside. He quickly rifled through his mind and followed the link. 

_ “I am here, mon Amour. I have been since you entered that church. The Wicked Truth here in America?”  _

_ “Can we help them?”  _

_ “They are the only vampires in our history to purposely hunt down their line and murder them.”  _

_ “Why?”  _

_ “I knew their master, and his master, the sourdre de sang. They were warriors, mon Amour. Such warriors. They were to battle what Belle Morte is to sex.” _

_ “Can we still help them? They tried to help us…”  _

_ “You are ever the heart, mon Amour. I will never begrudge that heart of yours. Do you know what happens when the source of a line goes mad?”  _

_ “I can imagine something bad.”  _

_ “All in their line suddenly began to slaughter people without pay, without politics, or motives of any kind. I was still with Belle at the courts. I know that the council was planning on sending assassins, but two of the vampires in the line took action. They saved us from coming to the attention of England, and for that the council was grateful, but they slew their own source of blood, their creator, and that is a death sentence among them.” _

_ “Can we still help him? Please?”  _

_ “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to have a warrior or two,”  _ Edward of all, interjected their conversation.  _ “We need more than seductive vampires, Toy, if you want to deal with the threats.” _

_ “I said them, darlings, not me. Believe it or not Belle Morte voted for them to live, but they were masterless, and sent to roam as they would with the hand of any master that met them turned against them. If they could slay their fountain of blood and survive, then most considered them too dangerous to survive. But I find them resourceful, they did what they needed to do to live. They are not brutes of the Dragon’s line, but they are warriors that have survived centuries with every hand turned against them. I met them once when their master came to the courts. They were men of honor. I will help you bind them, mon Amour. It is in your will, and I will not begrudge your will.”  _

“What did he say?” Wicked asked. 

“No one will risk it,” Truth choked out. 

Harry smiled. “Jean-Claude is not like the others.” 

_ “Open your side wide, mon Amour, and I shall step inside you.”  _ Harry shivered as Jean-Claude breathed through his mind, and his lovely warm power flowed over Harry’s skin. He opened the marks wide, and Jean-Claude filled him until their powers united like a flame fed oxygen. It spilled hot down his back, bowed Harry’s spine, and spilled out from his skin. It went out and out and out, and Harry could feel every vampire in the hallway. Feel them like individual lights in the dark as if with closed eyes, Harry would know them all. 

“Back my children!” Malcolm’s voice came distant, as if he were talking through the roar in Harry’s head. “We must leave this place to his black magic.” 

Harry turned to Wicked. “I am Jean-Claude’s human servant. We truly are blood bound to each other.” 

“What do you propose?” 

“The knife comes out, then I let Truth feed, and we blood oath him to Jean-Claude.” 

“He would truly take us?” 

“Yes. Do you agree to it?”

Wicked looked down at his brother. “Do you agree to this? To being bound to another master?” 

“I like his power, his call. It feels like home. He is warm. I taste his sincerity, Brother.” Truth started gasping for air, and Harry knew they were running out of time. “If this is the servant, then the master must be more.” 

“Is that a yes?” 

Wicked nodded. “But if you take my brother, you have to take me too.” 

“I would never part brothers,” said Harry earnestly. “It would be cruel to do so, but I don’t know if I have enough blood for you too tonight with his injury.” 

“We have fed already this night. For Truth it will need to be a true feeding, but for me a taste will do.” 

Harry smiled calmly. “That’s fine with me.” 

“What’s going on?” asked Smith when Edward stepped back into the hall. His jeans were covered in blood. 

“How is it going, Little Raven?” He lifted Harry’s chin to observe him. “Hm, interesting. Your eyes are a perfect mix.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Ice and dark blue, chartreuse with a hint of gold.” It was the eye color of all his men, except for the gold, which might have alluded to one of his beasts inside. Interesting. Either that or the ardeur. 

“I’m going to oath Truth now. He needs to feed.”

He turned back to Wicked who had been watching them, and he noticed that his bone structure was very clear, and he was very masculine in the jaw, and when he looked down at Truth, Harry caught the same thing beneath the facial hair. “We need to get the knife out first, then he feeds. Do you want to or should I do it?” He looked at Wicked. 

He seemed to understand without needing to explain. “I will do it.” He took his free hand because the other was still wrapped around his brother’s hand. He gripped the hilt of the blade and hesitated. 

“Do it, brother.” 

Harry adjusted the torc around his neck, and slowly began to mount Truth at the waist just below the knife wound. Gray eyes stared into his own wild color. Harry was going to offer his neck because it would give him more blood. “You want me to do it?” Wicked shook his head, but still didn’t move. “Either you do it or I do it, Wicked. We’re running out of time.” 

“Forgive me, Brother,” he said, and pulled the blade out in one harsh jerk. 

Blood welled up from the wound, thick and red. His body began to spasm. “I knew I shouldn’t have worn white.” It was all he said as he shuffled up and lay directly on top of Truth’s chest to hold the blood flow in. Harry could feel him spasming underneath, and fighting for his life. “Someone hold him up so he can feed.”

Wicked didn’t argue, and moved around behind his brother, and raised his head and shoulders just enough off the ground, but the spasming was growing less and that wasn’t good. Not good at all. 

_ “Kiss him.”  _

Harry blinked. “What?” 

_ “Give him enough energy to feed. You’ve done it before mon Amour.”  _

And he had, hadn’t he? He called upon his and Jean-Claude’s powers, and with Wicked holding Truth by the back of the neck Harry pressed his lips to the vampire’s mouth. His lips were so still against his own, but he kissed him and felt death hovering. Felt that spark flickering in the wind like a match. 

_ “No! Away with you tonight, Death. He’s mine.”  _ Harry breathed his power into Truth. He kissed slow and careful, and soon Truth began to respond, kissing back slow and weak at first, but the suckling of power gained ground, and Harry naturally slid further up his bloody body as their magic began to twine around Truth. Jean-Claude used Harry to thrust his power like a sword down the line of his body. It was sharp and painful even to Harry, but it brought Truth gasping, sitting up off the floor, clutching Harry with gasping yells in a language Harry couldn’t decipher. 

“Feed,” Harry ordered against his mouth. 

Truth grabbed hold of Harry by the waist, his fingers digging into his sides, and he buried into Harry’s neck below the torc. 

_ Yeouch!  _ He bit, and bit Harry harder than Harry had ever felt a bite. Harry didn’t fight it, and just let the vampire bite him, suck out his blood as he clasped his arms around the man, encouraging him to drink. 

In the distance he heard a door opening, and a startled man’s voice. “What’s going on?”

“Little Raven’s saving his life,” said Edward. 

“You can’t save a corpse,” sneered a voice. “He’s dead. You can’t save him.” 

“Marshall Potter-Black made the decision, Roarke, go back to the others,” said Smith. 

“It’s probably best you do, Little Raven does not appreciate that kind of talk,” said Edward smoothly. 

Harry realized he had to give into Truth, and let down his shields. He only let them down for Jean-Claude, but if he wanted Truth to have enough strength he had to let him in too. Damian was so not going to be happy about this. He let down his natural necromancy shields, and he resisted moaning in public by biting his lip as the pain dissolved and it was replaced by a thumping heavy pulse that was akin to sex. Where the pain transformed into a pleasure that sent his entire system on fire. 

He melted into Truth, relaxing, and allowing Truth to devour him. Harry felt him sweep hands down his body to the small of his back and lower and lower until he was gripping Harry’s ass. Truth pressed them together, bowing his neck and shoulders, to keep his mouth sealed into Harry’s neck, and pressed their bodies tight against one another. Truth was filling up fast and he had become swollen and hard; and was not the only one. More than his own body was responding, the ardeur that had been so good and tucked away began to rise, stirred by Harry’s own hunger and need with the press of Truth’s body, the sucking of his mouth. It rose like a snake through Harry’s body, across his skin, and into Truth. Harry’s own cock was starting to grow hard and press tightly against his trousers, he couldn’t help but roll his hips forward to slide against Truth as the vampire kneaded his ass. 

He drew back with a moan from Harry’s neck in exclamation. “Mother of Darkness save us, it’s Belle Morte!” 

“No… no, Truth. It’s just me. Just Jean-Claude, just us,” Harry whispered the last against his bloody lips. The ardeur wanted Harry to kiss him, to press their mouths together and feed, energy for energy. Harry began to speak. “Edward… please…” 

Edward came around behind Harry so suddenly. 

Wicked flinched. “What are you doing?” 

He gripped the back of Harry’s neck, and just like that something cold flew through him like ice, and it spread through Truth’s body to freeze the ardeur in place. It began to coil back down where it belonged. 

“How did you stop that?” Truth panted, his eyes were bluer than they had been before, and he loosened his grip from Harry. 

“Talent,” said Edward simply. “Come on, Little Raven. I think you’ve had enough.” 

Harry was pulled shakily from Truth’s body. He climbed up Edward’s weaker side and looped around him. “Thank you,” he whispered into his chest. 

“Are you alright?” Smith and Wicked asked at the same time. 

Smith glared at the vampire, but Wicked’s face was neutrally handsome. 

“Just been donating a bit too much lately. I’m fine,” said Harry, and to prove it. He carefully stepped out of Edward’s arms. 

“I feel the master’s power,” said Wicked. “My brother is bound to him, but I am not. You promised you would take us both.” 

“I will, Jean-Claude will, but not tonight. I need to save what blood I have left, Wicked, and if the ardeur rises again…” 

Wicked gave Harry a look that said he neither believed nor trusted him. The brother stood beside him all of a sudden as if he’d levitated to his feet. He hugged Wicked one-armed across the shoulders. “He will do what he promised.” Truth was smiling. 

“Why? Because he helped you fight off the ardeur?” 

“Partly.” 

Wicked shook his head. “You must be even better than that felt for Truth to trust you this much.” 

“I didn’t do anything but give you my word, and I refuse to feed the ardeur on the unwilling. But thank you for trying to stop Jonah.” 

“Your power called to us when you touched Avery,” Truth explained. 

“So when I said, catch him, you had to do it?” 

Both nodded. “We’ve been feeling your power since you were outside,” said Truth. “We could feel it coming. It was… unusual.” 

Harry sighed. “Sorry about that. It was instinct to say it.” 

“I’m not,” said Truth grinning. 

Wicked gave Harry a cynical look. “I’ll let you know. I’m not sorry yet.”

Harry sighed. “Look, I gave you my word that as soon as I can I will have you bound to Jean-Claude.” 

“No, I want you to promise me that you will bind me as you bound my brother.” 

Harry blinked at this. “I just said I would.” 

“No, you didn’t. For all I know you could pass me off to someone in your master’s household. My brother and I go together. To go together, we must go in the same way.” 

“He makes a point, Little Raven. You need to be exact in your wording with warriors or it won’t stick and it’ll be meaningless,” Edward told him. 

Harry was too tired for all this political stuff, and he rubbed at his forehead. “Yes, Wicked, I personally promise that I will bind you exactly as I bound your brother, but without the knife in the chest because I’m not into sadism. Happy now?” 

He gave a small nod, with an even smaller smile. 

“Great, leave a card or number at one of Jean-Claude’s clubs, and we’ll all get together.” 

“We’ll be there,” said Wicked. 

“Yes, yes we will be there.” Truth was practically beaming at him. 

What the bloody hell had Harry just done?

_ “You found us some warriors, mon Amour. Warriors that I think will even impress Edward.”  _

_ “Somehow I actually believe you. I can see them for myself, by the way they stand, the way they are aware of everything in the room. I approve, but the other does need bound or I might shoot him.”  _

_ “Of course, mon Tueur d’Ombre.”  _


	16. Chapter Sixteen

“Hello Cooper,” said Edward, stepping into the room. 

Jonah Cooper flinched when the door snapped shut behind them. He was sat in a chair with his hands cuffed through the rungs. His thigh was bleeding profusely from Edward’s gunshot wound. It would take a feed or two to heal. 

Jonah Cooper had been a fellow vampire hunter, and they had declared him dead three or four years back. Harry had been interviewed about how he felt about one of his fellow vampire hunters having been slain by vampires. 

Zerbrowski, Marconi, and Malcolm were all in the room. Malcolm was glaring at Harry next to a punch bowl that was very red, the tang of sweet blood swirled in the basin.

“Looks like you’re doing well for yourself,” said Edward. “What’s it been, three or four years?” 

“Four,” he spat. “I never imagined Death would find a whore that matched him so perfectly.” 

Harry glided around the room and ran a hand along the smooth surface of the table. Jonah, instinctively followed the hand as Edward took the other side, his hand doing the same thing. His dark brown eyes were shifting back and forth as if trying to get a look at them both.

“What’s going on?” asked Zerbrowski. 

Harry smiled, but it had no warmth or humor in it. It was a cold smile. “He’s a cop killer. He was a vampire hunter, and he let six policemen die in the fire that he was supposed to have gone up in. I’d like to guess that he sold them to the vampires that he had been hunting. Probably for a very long life,” said Harry sliding behind Jonah, and making him flinch when his fingers grazed the back of his neck. 

Edward stopped to stare down at him. His face empty and emotionless. His fingers were tapping on the table. A one, two, three, four, back to a one in a perfect soft rhythm. Jonah flinched again when Harry’s shadow covered him from behind. 

“Are you saying he took money to betray cops?” Marconi asked. 

“Not money, Marconi,” said Harry peering around Jonah and touching his shoulders. 

“Don’t touch me!” Jonah gasped. 

“You don’t have much say anymore. Either way you’re dying. I have a warrant.” He ran his fingers through the back of Jonah’s dark brown hair. “The question is how do you want to go out? Painful or not so painful?” He fisted the man’s hair causing Jonah’s face to contort. “He wanted immortality. To be the same forever.” Harry breathed into his ear causing Jonah’s eyes to glaze over. “He wanted the power, seduced by it.” 

“Weren’t you?” Jonah sneered. 

“It’s not the power, it’s what you do with it that matters, Jonah,” said Harry continually running his fingers through the man’s hair causing the vampire’s head to loll from side to side as though hypnotized. “And I have more than enough power of my own,” he brushed his lips across Jonah’s ear. “I don’t need Jean-Claude’s power. He doesn’t need mine.” 

“Then why?” Jonah hesitantly asked. 

Harry smiled and pushed into Jonah from the back. “Why, love of course, Jonah. I chose love, which is the highest power of them all.” 

“You chose sex,” Malcolm spat from across the room. “It is all that Jean-Claude could ever offer, sex and more sex, and with it power.” 

Harry snickered. “You know so very little for a master vampire, Malcolm. You should be very careful about the stones you throw. Sometimes they get thrown back.” 

“Is that a threat, heathen?” 

“No. Just a friendly warning that only the pure of motive should cast stones.” 

“Ask your friend here. Ask him, was it sex with one of us that lured him? I have watched mortals come to life for centuries for the sake of sex.” 

“And what’s wrong with sex? Everyone has it in them. It does not matter how it comes about, it’s what you do with it that matters,” said Harry, still playing with Jonah, the man was very nearly drowned in Harry’s touch as it flowed like a river through him. “If you had taught your vampires how to properly feed and perform sexual acts none of us would be here, Malcolm. It’s their nature, just as its human nature to have sex. It is their nature, and you took it away, and the more you take it away from them the more they are going to want it, they are going to hunger until they lose control of themselves. You have not oathed them, which means they are not bound by a master, and in about fifty to a hundred years they will all go mad.” He squeezed on Jonah’s head to wake him up. 

“What do you mean?” asked Smith. 

“Lesser vampires have to be oathed to keep them alive, and to keep them sane. It’s how they grow. All these churches are a walking time bomb if they have gathered the same practices as you have. Do you want to go mad, Jonah?” 

“N-no.” 

“I didn’t think so. But, you are blood oathed, aren’t you?” said Harry and Jonah went quiet. 

“I would know if he was blood oathed!” 

“But he is, someone else has oathed him right out from under you,” said Harry. “You can’t feel it? I can feel it. Ted, can you feel it?” 

“I feel something, Little Raven,” said Edward. “It doesn’t do any good to ask him questions. I knew this man well enough as a human that he’s a tough bastard. He won’t answer them.” 

Malcolm scowled. “Officers, are you really going to let your heathen of a Marshall use his seductive powers on the unwilling?” 

“It’s better than torture,” said Zerbrowski. “By federal law, Harry Potter-Black and Ted Forrester can use any means necessary to extract information from vampires that they have orders of execution for. I can’t stop him, and at the behest of those innocent women that were slaughtered, Federal Marshall Harry Potter-Black can do as he sees fit so that we can put an end to this.” 

“It won’t work,” Jonah hissed. “I will not be seduced. I will not betray my master just like you won’t betray yours!” 

Harry didn’t bother to respond to Jonah, and smiled. “Thank you, Zeze.” He swirled around and cupped Jonah’s face with his hands. “Look at me.” Jonah tried to refuse, avert his gaze. “Look at me!” He pushed his power into Jonah making him raise his gaze, and Harry wasted no time diving into him. 

He saw a face that he recognized from his dreams. A woman’s face. She was beautiful, and he remembered her at a banquet table from Belle’s court. It wasn’t Harry’s memory. 

_ “Jean!”  _

“ _ Gwenyth, Vittorio’s lovely Gwennie.”  _

“Vittorio,” Harry said, and he had a face with the name. He was darkly handsome, and Harry doubted he’d started life with such an Italian name. He looked very dark, Arabic maybe. “Vittorio.” He must have said it aloud because Cooper began to scream, and tried to stand up. 

But Edward pinned him with one hand to keep him in place, and Harry backed off quick enough that Edward took hold of the left side of Cooper’s head and snapped his neck causing Marconi and Zerbrowski to flinch as all the color left in Malcolm’s face drained. 

“My God, you broke his neck!” Marconi squeaked. 

“He’s not dead,” said Edward blandly. “Get the rest, Little Raven.” 

Cooper stared up at him, unable to move. Harry resumed touching his face, and closed his eyes to think. ‘Daytime retreat, where is his daytime retreat?’

Cooper couldn’t fight Harry now, and his thoughts came out like smooth silk. It was a big building, a condo of sorts. Harry wanted to see the front of it, and so he saw it. He had an address. A number and name of the condo soon infiltrated through his mind, and he was looking at all the little mailboxes with all the names and numbers. Harry was looking at it from higher up than he would have seen it. 

Street. What street?

Harry spoke the name of the street aloud, along with the number that the condo was under. “Got it!” said Zerbrowski. 

Harry opened his eyes, and let go of Cooper. He stepped back and the man collapsed onto the table. His eyes fluttered open as he let out a groaning noise. 

“Are you calling Mobile Reserve now?” asked Edward. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” 

“They have to know,” said Zerbrowski. 

“I agree,” said Edward. “And if you’re bringing in anyone the reserve is a good idea, but right now they are out hunting, and the main vampire we want is not going to be there, and if he is there it’s going to be even worse for them. This thing is so powerful that not even the masters in the city could feel him.” 

“So?” This came from Smith. 

Edward stared at him nonplussed. “How many more policemen do you want to die by rushing in so foolishly?” 

“They aren’t immune to vampire powers,” Harry backed up. “If they go in at night when he’s at his best, all of them may die. Not to mention there will be more murdered women if we don’t get the ring leader.” 

Everyone was looking at them except Zerbrowski. He had already moved on and didn’t need convincing. Marconi would be cool, it was the uniforms and Smith they had to convince. 

“We can’t withhold the address,” said Roarke. “Not if we’re asked.” 

“If the address leaves this room, more will die,” said Harry. “Zerbrowski, call Mobile Reserve, and get me Captain Parker.” 

Zerbrowski raised an eyebrow at Harry. “You sure that’s a good idea?” 

Harry shook his head. “No, but he knows me. And he’s the man in charge of Mobile Reserve. Get him for me.” 

Zerbrowski made a face. “You’re funeral.” 

“Let’s hope not.” 

Jonah Cooper had come back to consciousness, and he was staring up at Harry as though he wanted to say something to him. 

Zerbrowski clicked the phone shut. “I’ve left a message. He’ll get back.” 

“We should get him outside now,” said Edward. 

Zerbrowski gave them another look. “Right. Smith you should stay back.” 

“What- Why?” Smith spluttered. 

“You don’t want to see this,” said Zerbrowski as Edward and Zerbrowski seized Cooper by the arms. 

Harry pulled out his gun, and was checking his ammo. 

Cooper started making small protesting noises as Harry followed behind. 

“What are they going to do?” asked Smith. 

“Go outside if you want to see the show,” said Marconi. “I’ve seen it.” he sounded tired, and Harry didn’t blame him. Only a couple followed them outside. Harry felt nothing as he moved like a shadow. 

“Got the right ammo in there, Little Raven?” 

“Always do thanks to you,” said Harry. 

They stepped outside to a small area near the far parking lot. Cooper had figured out what was going to happen because even with his injured jaw he was trying to talk to him. His words started out stiff, but got faster as he talked. Fear will override pain. 

“I know Death over there doesn’t give a damn, but you’re Jean-Claude’s servant. How is what I’m doing any different from that?”

“I don’t kill in his name. I don’t hunt down innocent people,” Harry spat. “I don’t murder them and leave them outside a dumpster. I’m not self-righteous by any damn means, but Jean-Claude has never and would never order me to do such a thing.” Harry had a lot of gray lines, Edward had no lines. Jean-Claude had about the same lines as Harry. You kill to protect. You kill to defend those who can’t defend themselves. Harry had come to that conclusion some time ago. That was who Harry happened to be. 

“I’ve killed more people as a hunter than I’ve killed as a vampire.” He tried to turn and look at Harry but apparently it was too much, and he couldn’t. 

“I don’t enjoy killing anyone,” said Harry solemnly. “It’s why I made sure Avery was innocent, but you. You are not innocent. I saw what you did to some of those women. I saw exactly what you and the others did.” Edward and Zerbrowski finally turned the vampire around so that Harry could see his face. “I’m called the Equalizer, not the Executioner, Jonah.” Harry nodded sharply to Edward and Zerbrowski, who finally let Jonah go.

He tried to levitate, but Harry and Edward both shot in perfect timing. Harry got him through the head, Edward shot him through the heart, and the blood spilled as Jonah went flying backwards with both powerful shots. Edward kept shooting him until his chest was torn open, and the heart was destroyed. Harry’s part was already done. He didn’t have to shoot anymore than he did, but the heart had to come out, and it was best to let Edward finish. 

Roarke and the others backed away with wide-eyes, Zerbrowski watched solemnly without saying a thing. 

“Why so bloody?” asked Roarke weakly. 

“You have to take the heart and the head,” Harry explained solemnly. 

“Do you enjoy it?” 

“I don’t,” said Harry shaking his head. 

“Then why do you do it?” 

“I have to.” 

“Why?” 

“Just do,” said Harry, aware that Edward did enjoy it, and that was okay too. It was just bad luck that Cooper had to come to their city, and had to get caught. 

Oh hell, Harry didn’t know what to feel. It wasn’t excitement. It wasn’t glee, and he knew in the end that he was no better than Jonah Cooper because he wasn’t even sure that he was fighting for the innocent women murdered. Maybe he wasn’t too far from Edward. He did it because he had to. He wasn’t sure what he was to be honest. He wasn’t a sociopath nor was he a psychopath. 

So, what was Harry?

A freak?

oOo

“Something is bothering you, Little Raven.” 

“Yes and no,” said Harry cuddling up against Edward as they drove away from the church. “Just wondering what makes us different from Jonah?” He picked at a loose thread on Edward’s chest. “And why I cared so much about what Jonah did versus what we do all the time. What’s the difference?” 

“Nothing,” said Edward. “At least to me, there is no difference. I don’t feel anything at all, and yet you don’t mind that.” 

“No, I don’t.” 

“Why?” 

“You’re mine?” said Harry sliding his hand beneath Edward’s shirt to rub at the tattoo on his chest and shoulder. “I guess I just wonder what I am. You’re a sociopath. He was a psychopath, what am I?” 

“You are Little Raven. You can’t change what you are. But you can change the parameters.”

“What do you mean?” 

“You need it. You need the kill because it’s in you to do it. It’s in all of us, but only a select few actually unlock the need. You are aware I don’t feel much if nothing at all.” 

“But, I know you love me.” 

“I do,” said Edward, keeping his eyes on the road. “It’s the first thing I ever felt. Somehow, the Toy and Alpha ended up on the list, likely through you. If Jonah Cooper had changed his parameters and not been so fucking weak then he wouldn’t be dead right now with his heart and brains splattered on the road in the church parking lot. We wouldn’t give a damn, but because he crossed us, he is dead. That is all it is.” 

“Sometimes I enjoy the rush, sometimes I enjoy the kill, but I didn’t enjoy it this time,” said Harry as he traced the tattoo under the shirt by memory. There was no way he’d forget how the raven flew across the moon over Edward’s chest.

“What did you feel?” 

“Sombre. Not sad, but sombre.” 

“There was no incentive, no real chase in the fight. Also, someone like you should not spend much time with their mark before executing them. You pretty much used the Toy’s powers, which have a high emotional rate and you couple that with your own; leaves you overflowing, Little Raven.” 

“It’s not like I got attached. Just, I guess I would have felt better if the government hadn’t given us the go-ahead to kill him with impunity. Like with Avery. I almost killed an innocent.” 

“Maybe that’s what’s bothering you and not Jonah Cooper at all.” 

“Probably. He looked so young, and Malcolm - Merlin, I want to see him dead. I want to see his heart cut out. What he’s done to that whole congregation is what Dumbledore did to me and plenty of others. I’m hungry,” he confessed as he pressed a light kiss to Edward’s shoulder.

Edward smirked. “Where you want, Little Raven? I could eat too.” He turned down Olive Street where all the nice restaurants sat on each side of the road. 

“No fast food,” Harry whimpered. “Stuff is so loaded with rubbish. I can’t let you eat that all the time. I’ll make us a great steak when this whole thing is over with, and some roasted potatoes. Red of course I know how you are, cookout time?” 

“Sounds good to me.” Edward chose an Italian restaurant to Harry’s surprise. It was only about ten so they had another two hours before it closed for the night. Harry charmed Edward’s jeans and his white outfit clean, and the two of them headed inside. 

Harry enjoyed the angel hair pasta with garlic sauce, well seasoned chicken and vegetables, with tons of breadsticks and endless refills of the soup that had the little circle noodles in them. It was hard to stop eating. It was like his body was an endless pit. Edward stuck to a simple portion of lasagna with the soup. It was almost like a date. 

Maybe it was an impromptu one. 

“Merlin, I’m so hungry.” he said grabbing another breadstick and tearing it apart. It was like he hadn’t eaten before in his life. They had a silencing bubble around their table so their conversation didn’t leak out to the other patrons. 

“You did donate a lot of blood, Little Raven. It’s no surprise.” 

“I accidentally ordered them to stop Jonah, I hadn’t realized I was doing it. I meant the order to go to the police. Not them! So it was on me. I had to fix them.” 

“You had all of them bespelled. You could have taken them all away.” 

Harry snorted as he tore off another piece of the garlic stick. “And for what? Jean-Claude doesn’t need that. Most of them are weak and pitiful, and they’d never conform, they’re brainwashed beyond help.” 

“Most wouldn’t even be worth it,” Edward agreed. “Do you know how you did it?” 

“What?” 

“Roll them.” 

“No,” said Harry shaking his head. “I wasn’t trying to. I just wanted to spook Malcolm, remind him that we could take what he built away at any time.” 

“I think you got the point across, I don’t think we will be all that popular with that side of the preternatural.” 

“Who would want to be?” He shook his head. “What are your parameters?” he then asked curiously. 

“It depends on the circumstances,” Edward admitted, and Harry was kind of surprised the man answered him so freely. “If I’m on a target and there are people in my way I might ask them to move or I’ll shoot through them. Honestly, Little Raven, I do not care who goes down so long as I get what I want.” 

“But you have parameters. For instance, you won’t kill anyone pathetic unless they’re in your way.” 

“You’re not wrong. I suppose I gauge whether it’s worth it or not in each individual situation. No two are alike. I suppose I have a militant parameter, and lately with this intriguing group bond of ours, I have been able to smell and read lies better than I ever have. I do have strict codes, but they’re not from feeling, it’s more I live by them because I have to. If I don’t, I will end up like those creatures in New Mexico.”

“Not with me alive,” said Harry. “I made you a promise. Just like you did me.” Edward was quiet as he tore off a piece of his bread to dip into the pasta sauce of the lasagna. 

“Do you think you could do it? You feel everything, Little Raven. I’ve never seen someone run over with emotions so much as I do you.” 

Harry nodded. “I can because Death is nothing to be afraid of, Edward. You know that,” he purred sweetly. 

Edward smirked. “Indeed.” 

He then sulked when his soup was gone, so was his pasta. “I want the tiramisu.” 

“Sweets,” Edward drawled. “It’s always sweets with you.” He flagged down the waitress and ordered for Harry who was a bit shy ordering dessert after his fourth bowl of soup, and third basket of bread. 

“Least Jean isn’t here force-feeding me every sweet on the menu,” said Harry with a half smile. “Do you trust Jean?” He asked hesitantly. 

“I don’t know,” Edward admitted. “I think I do. I can’t be sure if it’s this weird feeling for him or if it’s you. You trust him even after what he did.” 

“I don’t think he realized what he did,” said Harry. “I talked to Rafael a bit afterwards. He isn’t human. I think our version of consensual is different than his own. He didn’t see it as betraying me or sending someone unwilling. He didn’t realize what he was doing until he did it. I guess what I’m more mad about is that I’m in this position with the ardeur.” 

“You can’t change it. Are you angry with him? It’s hard to tell with you sometimes, Little Raven. You bottle things up until it explodes.” 

“I’m not angry. I’m not even scared because I have you to stop me if things turn for the worst. Micah said something in Philly that’s stuck with me. I didn’t let it affect me too much at the time because Micah needed me for him, and he was in pain from his past. But, it’s always revolved around my head whenever things like this happen.” 

“What?” asked Edward cautiously. 

“When is enough enough? When will it get to be too much of a freak show? When will our abnormal life become too much? I’m honestly kind of afraid of the consequences rather than the actions.” 

Edward leaned over, folding his hands on the table to stare at Harry sharply. “You and I, Little Raven, are not normal; and we’re never going to be. You have to accept that.” 

“I do. I like not being normal. It’s because of you I embraced it, but lately I’ve just been a bit afraid, afraid that I’m going to be left alone. I guess that’s stupid.” 

“It is stupid, but you’re allowed to be stupid sometimes, Little Raven. We are all predators, some of us have been a predator much longer than others. I must admit I like the life we carved out. You asked if I trusted Jean-Claude. I did not know how to answer that, but I do now. I trust him because he is like us. All of us are practical down to the bone, including Alpha, but every now and then something will always get to one of us. It seems you are the one who gets hit with the worst because like Jean-Claude once said, you are the lighting rod. He stood in front of a gun, knowing I would shoot him. Alpha begged me, holding onto me and crying. I realized if I had been successful, all of us would have perished. I was counting on it. I never thought I’d feel that in my life. I meant it when I said I loved you. I didn’t understand that word even when I felt it, until last night, and the way you looked at me like you were so fucking happy that I would kill you.” 

“I was, because I know you won’t let me be something I’m not.” 

“Exactly, and you are not allowed to be me,” He pointed at Harry’s nose. His face severe, his eyes were like an iceberg. “So go ahead and be stupid, Little Raven, because I’d rather you stupid than feel nothing.” He traced down Harry’s nose to his chin. “Your ours, and we are yours. Nothing more for it.” 

Edward made his heart beat fast, and his blood rushed to an unbelievable hotness. “Why do we have to be in a restaurant?” 

“Now, now Little Raven. Your dessert has arrived.” He pulled back as the waitress returned. Harry dropped the silencer temporarily, and Edward ordered three meals to go for Peter, Teddy, and Micah. 

“Add one of each dessert,” said Harry to the shock of the waitress. 

“You heard him.” 

“Y-yes sirs!” 

And just like that all of Harry’s fear and upset evaporated. Had he really been holding onto that this long? It was amazing to think that he’d been so off-course this whole time because of it. 


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Idiots! 

It wasn’t a contest. It wasn’t something that could be taken back once they’ve tried it and failed. 

Captain Parker had called back, and Harry had updated him on the situation, and it was going great until Captain Parker refused to let him or Edward join them in their raid on the condo. Good thing Harry hadn’t given them the exact number, and told Parker to fuck off when he demanded it. 

It was like going into a biochemical plant without HazMat suits. It was stupid, and Harry enjoyed telling Parker good luck trying to call back when they were beyond the grave. 

Harry and Edward had returned to the Circus, and the Italian meals were most definitely desired. Jean-Claude had joined them to watch and like Harry predicted, all the desserts were more fun for him than the food was for Peter and Teddy. Micah had returned long enough to get his food before heading back to Guilty Pleasures. He was playing boss tonight to help Buzz out. 

Jean-Claude liked the parfaits in particular. 

“If you make me eat this double chocolate, I’m going to be sick,” It had a fudge cake at the bottom with rich chocolate mousse, chocolate chips, and a mocha ganache at the very top. It was a rich explosion that Harry could just smell. Harry groaned at the small round parfait. “I already had the amoretto.” Which had been nice and light, but this was a bit much. 

“But I want to know what it tastes like.” 

“Rich and sick sugar,” Edward said from his lounging position on the couch. Teddy was draped over him nibbling on one of the desserts Harry had gotten. It was like a powdered donut, called a cannoli. He was carefully making sure none of the powder landed on Edward.

“I’ll take one bite,” said Harry, spooning a bit and sucking it from the spoon. “Gah, rich.” Jean-Claude was delighted. He shuddered. “Good, but rich. Too rich. Please no more. You want it, Teddy?” 

“Nope!” 

“You can taste it?” Peter seemed to finally realize. 

“Oui, it’s nice being able to taste the food fares. Food in my time was not exactly enjoyable to eat. Each bite was a dare not to die of poison.” 

Peter blanched. “How old are you?” 

“Old.” Jean-Claude smiled, and purposely showed a bit of a fang. 

“Musketeer old,” Harry teased. “By the way, do you still have that three musketeer outfit from our first Halloween?” 

“Why wouldn’t I? Your Draco is brilliant at fixing costumes, and getting the stains out.” 

“Magical mess remover fixes everything, even blood. Speaking of, Vittorio?” Harry turned to look at Jean-Claude. 

Jean-Claude settled back as he lifted the parfait to examine. “I fear that all your policemen will not survive should they meet him. I haven’t seen him in centuries, no one has heard from him in centuries. He went rogue after an incident with the church. Some of the events are fuzzy, before even my time. So you can imagine his age and power is great. Earthmover great.”

“Earthmover is still dead,” said Edward who had his eyes closed as he rubbed Teddy’s back. Teddy was carefully licking the cream from the end of the cannoli before it could drop on Edward. 

“Oui, but Earthmover was moved by his own conceit. Vittorio has no conceit. It is hard to explain unless you meet him. I did my best to keep my distance. Luckily he had no interest in me. I was too young and smart for him. He does not like them too smart. He likes them simple, and he was also weary of Belle Morte. So I had a small blanket of protection. Many others were not so lucky.” In other words, Jean-Claude was saying that no one would find him until he wanted to be found, and the result would be a lot of deaths. 

“We need in on that raid,” said Edward opening his eyes. “Can you work some magic, Little Raven?” 

“Maybe. I can make some calls. Unfortunately, MACUSA might not see this as magical enough to intervene, but I could talk to Bradford.” Harry pulled out his phone. “He might be able to get me an in.” 

He spent the next fifteen minutes speaking to Bradford and catching him up on everything, and how the Mobile Reserve was going to get themselves killed.

Bradford sighed. “I’m not really supposed to muscle in on the Reserve, but it’s not against the rules. Just bad form. I’ll do it. I owe you, Harry.” 

“Cheers, Bradley!” He hung up. “He’s going to see what he can do about getting us on the team. I’m going to go cleanup, even though I made the blood vanish I can still feel it,” said Harry. “And next time, Jean, no white during RPIT investigations.” 

Jean-Claude curled an arm around Harry’s waist and brought him down for a kiss. “I can’t promise, mon Amour. You look dashing, and you made a splash did you not?” 

“I made a something, but lying on top of a bleeding vampire in white is usually not recommended.” 

“I have spoken to the Wicked Truth, I must say I am very impressed you were able to recruit them. Wicked insists on you being the one to do it. He doesn’t wish for me directly.” 

“He said he wants it exactly as his Brother,” said Harry. 

“Oui, no surprise. Both of them have been burned before by many a master. They may see hope in you where they would not trust me. So they wish for you to act as the medium to keep their distance. It looks like you have two more vampires to add to Damian.” 

Harry groaned. “Don’t let him hear you say that. I already promised, he’s my one and only.” 

“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep, Little Raven,” Edward taunted. 

“Oh hush you.” Harry huffed with a cross of his arms. “It’s not supposed to work like this.” 

“But nothing is predictable where you are concerned, mon Amour,” Jean-Claude smiled. “I would call your abilities frightening if I did not know your heart.” 

Huffing some more, Harry needed to get away before his face flamed up. “I’m going to clean up.” 

Teddy snickered. “You embarrassed, Parrain. How do you keep doing that?” He asked from his lounged position. He looked more like a cat than a wolf the way he was stretched out over Edward. 

Jean-Claude stroked Teddy’s face and leaned down to kiss his nose. “It is a gift.” 

Teddy grinned. “I don’t think he’ll see it that way. I can see where it would be a lot of fun to tease him, but he does need to wash. I could smell the blood.” 

“You’re likely smelling me, kid.” 

“Yep. Your jeans are filthy.” 

Edward smirked. “You could get off me.” 

“Nope.” Teddy shifted around and laid completely over Edward who wrapped his arms around the boy. “I don’t care what you smell like so long as you smell like us too.”

“I better go make sure he’s changing into something approved. Who knows what colors he’ll try and put together?” said Jean-Claude beaming. 

“Does it matter what Harry wears?” asked Peter. 

“Oui, very much so.” 

“It only matters with how fun it is to take it off.” 

Peter turned a funny shade of red at Edward’s words. 

Jean-Claude beamed as he paused behind Edward and ran his fingers through the man’s short hair. “You mean rip it off, right? You don’t take much off, mon Tueur d’Ombre. You like to split things open.”

“Same end,” said Edward. 

Peter cringed at the conversation. “I think I’m going to… find someone. Upstairs. Far away. Or something.” 

“You do that, and stay out of trouble.” 

Peter made himself scarce and Jean-Claude chuckled. “What a sweet boy.” He looped his arms around Edward’s neck, his hair flooding around them. 

Teddy reached up to play with the curls. “Big Brother Peter likes to talk big, but he gets really red and likes it when you mention clothes coming off or sex in general,” he tattled innocently. “He’s just hiding it.” 

Jean-Claude laughed, and Edward smirked. “Oh really?” 

“Uh huh.” 

“Looks like the garcon is growing well,” said Jean-Claude. 

“Hopefully. I don’t know what I’m doing. I just make sure he eats and learns to take care of himself.” 

“It is all you can do.” 

That was when Harry returned to the room half dressed with his phone. “Where is Incubus Dreams?” 

Jean-Claude raised up. “Why? It is inferior to my club,” he scoffed. “Why would you want to go there?” 

“Not for me, but one of the young wolves is there. He’s not twenty-one. He was drunk and slurring, and said he was scared that he couldn’t hold his wolf back. I have to go get him.” 

“Can’t you give it to Jamil?” 

“I still don’t trust him with the new wolves,” Harry confesseed. “All the wolves have my number for emergency purposes.” 

“You’re not going like that are you?” Jean-Claude gazed at Harry’s bare legs. “I know it’ll make an impression, but… I would not recommend it.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “No, I was in the middle changing.” 

“Good, I can find you something appropriate.”

“Looks like we’re going out for the night,” said Edward as Teddy leaned back and kissed him on the chin. 

“Okay. Keep Parrain out of trouble, Dad,” he said scrambling off Edward. 

“That’s my job. Go tease Peter.” 

Teddy grinned. “Yup!” He plucked the vanilla parfait and spoon before running off out of the room. 

oOo

Harry didn’t argue with the silver snug fitting t-shirt, and tight black leather trousers with matching knee high boots. Jean-Claude had been smug about fixing Harry up, and adjusting the torc and fur cuffs. He spoke for a good half hour about how inferior and awful Incubus Dreams was, and they couldn’t hope to meet Jean-Claude’s elegance and taste in beauty. He wanted to make another point. 

_ It was always a point with him, _ Harry thought. At least the clothes were more simple, not so practical, but what could Harry do? Jean-Claude’s style wasn’t practical in the slightest. 

Edward drove them to Incubus Dreams. It sat in the middle of an open field all by itself and a motel with a large forest of trees surrounding it. It was the only all-male club in Illinois territory, bright multicolored neon surrounded the entrance, and there was a large printed sign on the door that read, “All-Male Dancers.” 

“I can’t imagine anyone showing up here by accident, drunk or not.” 

“You still have that much faith in humanity?” Edward teased pulling into the gravel parking area. 

“Trying.” 

“Do you even know what this one looks like?” 

Harry shook his head. “Just know his name is Ryan. I can feel him out. I wonder why he came here of all places? Jean-Claude does reserve Wednesday nights for eighteen and older, no alcohol night.” It had been Draco’s suggestion to Jean-Claude to prove that his club didn’t need alcohol to look good. It was a huge success, always packed on Wednesday, and they served non-alcoholic cocktails. 

“Is he hiding what he is?” 

“I don’t know. There are so many wolves it’s hard to keep up on them all. He should have a sponsor. I’ll be looking into the sponsors if this keeps happening.” It wasn’t the first time, and he could feel the wolves out pretty well now that he was familiar with the pack energy. It was easier for them to call Harry for this kind of help instead of Marcus with all of the hours Marcus tended to work at the hospital.

Now, Jean-Claude might be a bit on the perfectionist side, and Harry sometimes didn’t listen to all his ramblings when it came to inferior business practices, but to say Jean-Claude didn’t know what he was saying was an understatement. 

Harry and Edward stepped right into the foyer, there was no bouncer, no coat-check, no one there to check ID or prevent unlawful entry. It was open and empty. The music was vibrating the walls and if the display case in the corner had been full, it would have toppled everything inside over. 

It was June, so no one really wore jackets unless they were hiding anything, but Jean-Claude had suggested for Edward to change into a silk black button down that was looser than most but not so loose it looked like he was carrying, and he was. Carrying heavily. Jean-Claude had even pulled out one of his tasers. He did not trust these other clubs, and Harry saw why. 

“Horrible security,” said Edward. 

“Feel bad now for pretending to listen to Jean,” said Harry checking the money he had on him, and found that Jean-Claude had stuffed a few hundred dollar bills in his pocket. It often made getting information easier. 

The music was awful, and Harry could see Edward’s eyes narrowing behind his reflective lenses. He didn’t like it either, and Harry knew that his hearing had become more sensitive in their Tetrumvirate, the man could hear a pin drop better than he ever did.

“Ryan can’t be having a good time. I think this is punishment enough.” 

“I might shoot him in the ass on principle.” 

Harry grinned. “Have at it, once he’s not throwing up.” 

It took a moment for them both to adjust their senses to the damn music. Jean-Claude’s music was usually tasteful and at a level that didn’t make you feel like seizing. 

There was a DJ in the corner in a raised booth, and Harry wondered if he could offer the bloke some cash to tone it down, but Harry doubted it. He’d probably just get louder. It was hard to reach into his power and push it forward to find his wolf with so much interference. 

Harry must have hesitated too long because the DJ leaned down over the booth wall, which happened to be above them. “Holy shit, you’re going to be a hit, baby. The dressing room is to the far side, beautiful! You better get there before your set starts.” 

Alarmed, Harry shuffled away quickly. Edward to Harry’s horror actually  _ snickered _ , though his eyes remained empty. 

“You are not allowed to do something so human where I can’t hear you,” Harry sulked into the man’s chest. 

“Pity for you, Little Raven.” 

There was a dance floor to the right, and several small raised stages with shiny silver poles in their centers. A pool table to the left and little tables scattered around, and what was even more startling were the bathrooms weren’t hidden like most clubs. It was strangely prominent against the far left wall, and the fact that there was no door to the men’s room. No doors on any of the stalls, so even standing at the door Harry could see directly inside of it. 

The bar was, of course, at the far side of the room. Clusters of men were around the nearest stage, and another cluster of women. Harry knew instantly by brushing up against them that they weren’t Ryan, and so they moved on. 

And it was like Harry had suddenly been hit by a spotlight because he was being stared at, men and women were staring at him with an eagerness that reminded him of the way his leopards looked at a full moon chasing a deer. Edward had made a sport of this by seeing if he could be faster than the leopards. Harry wasn’t sure what the current tally was, but Edward and the leopards were fairly even. It made Harry glad that he owned so much of the land around his house, easy for the pard and Edward to go hunting during the full moon without any neighbors calling the cops.

Harry kept close to Edward if only on instinct when a man came out of the draped back room wearing only loose boxers and socks. “M-maybe I should check the bathrooms.” 

“Right behind you, Little Raven.” Why did it sound like Edward was internally mocking him? Harry flashed him a raw look, and headed in the way of the bathrooms. He made sure to keep a distance from the draped back room. Didn’t want anyone to mistake him for someone coming to work.

Harry leaned around the wall of the bathroom, glancing inside. He did his best not to stare too closely at any of the men inside with their pants down. There were enough men in his life, no need for any accidental additions. When nothing visually stood out, Harry pushed his Lupa powers enough to confirm that there weren’t any werewolves inside. As he backed away from the wall he ran into a body. 

“Oh my god, you must be the new guy! I love that outfit, too bad we’re not allowed to stay like that at work. Let’s get you stripped down so that you can start your shift. Do you know who’s training you today?” Harry jerked in shock at the yelling at his ear. 

“What? I don’t work here.” Harry pulled away from the black haired man wearing loose booty shorts and sandals. He wasn’t near as fit as Jean’s men, but then again who were? He was okay with light blue eyes, but he was more average than anything. “I’m searching for someone.”

“Oh! Interviewing? The bosses like to watch your moves on the floor first. Come I’ll help, it would be great to have you on the team. We’d get so many more tips!” The man grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him onto the dance floor, squeezing through a few bodies until they were in the middle. “Just dance like you normally would, I’ll work with you.” He was way too eager, and Harry didn’t want to get red with the man. He was probably just doing his job. But...

“I’m not here for a job.” Harry spun trying to see where Edward got to. Surely the sociopath wouldn’t leave him alone here. He was shocked when two hands settled on his hips and a body formed to his back, moving hard enough to force him to move to the music. Before he could pull away another dancer formed to his front, pushing him closer to the dancer at his back. 

“He’s cute. Where’d you find him?” The one in front pressed his hips forward in time to the rocking by the one in back; as if they’ve done this before.

“Over by the stalls. Says he’s not here for a job.”

“Excuse me…” Harry tried to wiggle out from between, only for the one in front to drape his arms around Harry’s neck. Harry was now effectively sandwiched between the two men dancing against him.  _ This would be so much nicer with my men,  _ he thought.

“Hey, cutie. We can do a two for one deal.”

“What?” Harry asked confused, momentarily pausing in his efforts to escape. 

“Two for one. Both of us and you in the back.” The guy in front leaned forward to say in his ear. Neither man had stopped ‘dancing’ against him. The man in back ran one hand from his hip down his thigh and back up. If he didn’t end this soon his ardeur would wake up. “Two for the price of one. It’s not every day we get males as pretty as you in here.”

“I think not. Let me go. I’m not here about a job. I was called to pick up my friend who got too drunk.” Harry used a little of his power to finally get out from in between both of the dancers. “Sorry, but on a time crunch, but uh - thank you?” He stammered trying to disappear through the crowd. He was going to kill Edward and then kill Jean. Yep. Good idea. 

He could tell just from the passes over the men in the room that they were not Ryan, they all felt too human. Not right. He flinched when slim arms looped around him. “Where are you going to so soon, precious?” Purred a man into his ear. 

Harry would like to remind most of the male demographic that if they didn’t have the voice or the looks of Jean-Claude that maybe purring should be off the table. He tilted his head fractionally to see his captor, noting the lack of definition and strength in his body. 

All these men looked too fragile, even more than he was. At least Harry was solid, but then Jean-Claude’s taste and standards were exceptionally high. 

He thought about wiggling away, but then maybe this man could help him? “Do you work here?” 

“I sure do.” He spun Harry around, and grinded against him. He was wearing gold shorts that were too tight, and not in the most flattering way. He had soft brown hair that curled at his ears, and Harry supposed he was okay. Maybe a bit too withdrawn in the face. 

“How about I make it easier for both of us…” he resisted yelping when the man’s hands were already going down his back to his ass. He pulled out a hundred dollar bill. “Help me find my friend.” 

“Friend?” The man looked at the hundred. “What friend is that? I’ll help all you want, and here I was just hitting on you. You are quite pretty, why don’t you work here? Dallas would love you.” 

“Dallas?” 

“My boss.” 

“And you are?” 

“Owen.” He squeezed Harry’s ass and pulled him up against him. Harry could feel him getting hard, and took in a slow steady breath. “You have a friend? In this place? Maybe they’re in the backroom.” 

That was not what Harry wanted to hear.  _ ‘Edward stop laughing at me from whatever corner you’ve hidden yourself in!’ _ he inwardly squawked, and though nothing verbal came over the line, he could have sworn he felt amusement. Amusement.  _ The mocking bastard! _

“You help find my friend and get us out of here with all our stuff, Owen, and the hundred is yours.” Harry ran the bill down Owen’s chest.

“Slip it in my shorts now and we have a deal.” Owen continued to rock their hips together.

He could say no, but he knew that some dancers just weren’t as lucky as Jean-Claude’s dancers. “Fine, but if you renege on the deal I’ll dig it out of you,” and before Harry could slip the bill down fingers reached around and plucked the hundred from him. The same hand then slipped the hundred around his flat stomach and inside of Owen’s shorts with a pluck of the band causing the man’s eyes to widen as Harry was pulled back right into Edward’s chest. 

“Two for one,” said Edward. “See, Little Raven? I was watching the whole time. I didn’t see too much danger to pull you away from.” 

“You bastard,” Harry sulked. 

Owen looked from one to the other. “You two would make a fucking killing working here.” 

“Our friend,” Harry said, leaning closer to Owen. “Please?” 

“Ooh, you said please, and I have a hundred burning my crotch. Okay. But you have to act like you’re with me for a show. If Dallas finds out.” His face twisted into worry with a line of fear. 

“He doesn’t have to find out anything. We are paying you for your time after all,” Harry said.

“You have such killer eyes. I should have known the likes of you couldn’t work here,” said Owen with real disappointment. “Come on, back room awaits.” He slid his arm up and around Harry’s neck to guide him from the floor. 

Harry let the arm stay, and played up the part of playing customer by running his thin short nails slowly down Owen’s chest making the man’s eyes widen and take in a breath. “You have a dangerous touch.” 

“Do I?” 

Owen leaned down as if to kiss him, but Edward cleared his throat, breaking Owen’s attention. “Really? No fun?” 

“I think you have all the fun you need in your shorts.” 

That was when a dancer stepped out onto the bar they passed. He was not in shape in any way. He was tall and gangling, which was really strange. He looked like an insurance salesman or an accountant. He had glasses and short hair that made his ears look stranded. He was ordinary and so didn’t look like anyone that should be stripping. 

Harry had often thought this way of himself, but these people were beyond ordinary. Harry and Edward paused to see what he was doing, and Owen let them with a smirk on his lips. He reached for a set of chrome bars that were suspended above the bar and proceeded to roll his entire body up and through his own arms, proving that he was every bit as double-jointed as Nathaniel and the other dancers at Guilty Pleasures. 

That was when the audience behind them began to scream, and Harry couldn’t help but glance in their direction. Another dancer, just as tall and thin, was wearing only a pair of white socks. 

Oh shit, this was one of those full nudity bars. Illinois allowed it, the man was full frontal, and when he looked back so was the man on the bar itself now, and Harry realized why he was so popular, why everyone liked him. It didn’t matter what he looked like up top because he was well endowed. 

“Pretty big, hm?” Owen teased as Harry’s face went red. Edward chuckled dryly, and Owen tilted his head back at the man. “What? Not impressed?” 

“Oh, it’s not that. But, the Little Raven has had bigger.” 

“Edward!” Harry hissed. 

“You?” 

“Oh no.” Edward grinned, unashamed and quite proud of himself. 

Harry grumbled and pulled out of Owen’s arm and clasped his hand in his. “Come on, I need to find my friend.” 

“If he’s had bigger then why is he so red?” Owen asked, and the blush only got deeper. 

“You’ll have to ask him.” 

Harry made a beeline to the back where the black draped curtain across from the bar sat, and already he could feel the energy behind it. Harry dared himself one last time to peak over at the bar to find that not only was the dancer well endowed, but that it wasn’t just his shoulders that could bend in amazing ways. A woman was holding up a lot of money for him. 

Edward chuckled quietly when Harry ducked his face away. Owen parted the black drapes for them, and Harry took a deep breath before stepping through. 

There was a small open area just inside the drapes. A man was leaning against the far wall. He straightened the moment they came through the curtain. He was wearing a muscle shirt, exercise pants, and white socks. The clothes were slightly different, but the socks gave it away. He was another dancer. There was a lot more muscle beneath the shirt, and he had a body closer to the kind Harry would expect. Nowhere near Buzz’s side, but at least the effort was there. 

He smiled at Owen. “Looks like you got yourself lucky tonight, Owen. Need a hand?” He asked eagerly. 

“No thanks, I’ve got it covered.” He looped around Harry’s body and drew him closer. 

“I thought for a moment he was the new boy.” He assessed Harry. “He could still be one, Dallas would love him.” 

“J-just a customer. I can’t dance,” Harry squeaked, causing Owen to chuckle in his ear. 

“By the time we get through with you that might change.” 

The new guy laughed and shook his head, and motioned them down a hallway that stretched the length of the club. It was nothing like Guilty Pleasure where each room was private, and there was some nice room to move about. Instead, the corridor was narrow making it so that Owen had to push Harry forward, Edward right behind Owen with small draped booths in a long row on each side of them. It was impossible to stand side by side, and so Owen was now draping over Harry, his hands running up and down the length of Harry’s sides causing a bit too much heat to flare from him. 

In most cases there were standard rules to a private lap dance. A negotiation between the customer and the dancer. First rule was that the customer kept their hands to themselves with the dancer doing the touching, and even then there were rules about what kind of touching could be done. But Jean-Claude had told him that sadly these rules are rarely ever played properly. It was a careful game of whether it was safe or not to let a customer further or let a dancer further. 

Jean-Claude had explicitly forbidden anyone from prostituting themselves in his club. He hated prostitution, and when Harry said hated, he meant it. Jean-Claude had caught one of the wolves prostituting himself over a year ago, and that werewolf was still having issues speaking to this day. It was different if the dance turned sexual, and the lust was agreeable on both sides, but when it was one or the other extorting that was where the line was drawn. It was also bad for business, and led to more seedier customers and put the dancers in danger. 

Harry didn’t fully understand it. He did know that Jason had one woman who wanted to lick the back of his knees, and was willing to pay fifty dollars for the privilege, and because it wasn’t considered sexual by law they could do it. 

“We can’t just open the booths willy-nilly. You can get in trouble for that,” Owen whispered. 

“I don’t need to.” 

Jean-Claude’s club pushed the envelope, but it never went over. Now whether they did it outside of the club and not in the Riverfront or made an arrangement in his club to meet later, he couldn’t control that, and he wouldn’t. But in his club, absolutely not. 

Harry ran his palm along the covered booths, feeling for the energy that leaked down the narrow hallway. He knew that Edward wouldn’t like such close corridors, but then again what were these people going to attack with? Their well endowed cocks? Harry was sure he could take them. 

Harry grinned when Edward growled behind Owen as though he heard Harry’s thoughts. “Not nice.” 

“What?” Owen asked. 

“Nothing, keep going.” 

Of course, everything a person sought had to be the last place they looked. It was a cosmic sort of way the universe worked. It was like hunting the one pen that worked in the bottom of a drawer after you’d dug through a hundred pens that didn’t work. The energy flared just behind the curtain, and Harry raised a hand over his head to signal to Edward. He pushed the curtain aside, and Harry knew it was Ryan instantly from the gold/green gaze of lust that flooded through the small contained booth. He was a slim waisted young man with angular features and tufty brown hair that hung over his forehead and into his eyes. He was shirtless, and sitting on his knees with a nearly naked man over top of him, gripping him by the back of his hair and pushing him into his swelling cock and rotating his hips. 

He was well built with broad shoulders with a nice waist and hips, he had a good set of muscles that danced up his arms and legs that showed he lifted weights and kept in good shape. His face was hard, but desirable in that rugged sort of way. He also had a Marine tattoo on his arm, showing that he was an ex-Marine. 

Before Harry could step in and try and dissolve the situation, the ex-Marine’s hand came out and pulled Harry through. “I won’t charge extra, beautiful ones all over the place tonight.” His breaths were hot and smelled of alcohol, and one hand was already gripping Harry by the waist and keeping him flush to the man’s chest. He let go of Ryan’s hair and smoothed his way up Harry’s body to his face and neck. “Very pretty.” 

“I’m here for him,” said Harry turning his eyes down to Ryan who gasped and leaned back when he saw Harry. 

“Lupa…” 

“Step back, Ryan. You’re already in trouble going somewhere like this without your mentor and sponsor. He’s also twenty, not quite the right age to be drinking.” 

“And you are?” 

“I’m older than I look,” said Harry sweeping a hand down the man’s chest. “You can keep his money, and I’ll even add to it for interrupting. But he has to get out of here before he gets in trouble.” He pushed his power discreetly into Ryan causing the shade of his eyes to dissolve back to their brown shade. 

That was when Edward reached in without prompt. He hoisted Ryan off the floor and onto his feet. Harry waved his hand causing the man’s trousers to slide back on. 

“I was just having fun,” he whined like a kid. “Isn’t he cute? His name is Dallas.” 

“Not without a sponsor,” Harry chided. “Go!” he ordered, and Ryan didn’t argue. He stumbled back into Edward who gripped him on the back of the neck and pulled him out of the booth. “Sorry about that. Dallas, right?” 

“I don’t like whiners.” 

“Me either.” 

“But, here I am with some time left.” He centered Harry’s body and began to grind his hips causing some heat inside Harry to flicker. “Perhaps you can take his place?” 

Harry could feel him reacting, and taste his desires, he was rough and aggressive, and he wanted to play. He didn’t care about the money so much as the sex of it. Harry tasted an addict on his tongue, and it stirred the ardeur as Dallas took Harry’s silence as confirmation. 

“Do it,” said Edward from behind. “Get on your knees, Little Raven.” 

Harry tilted his head toward Edward. 

“A watcher, hm?” 

“Indeed. Just watching.”  _ “You have not fed your ardeur. Feed it on him. He’s of no consequence. He wants to. Take it.”  _

_ “Oui, mon Tueur d’Ombre is right. You cannot always count on constant sex or his ability to stop you from going too far. It is a good opportunity, although not as delicious as my men, but…”  _

_ “Are you trying to talk me into this or not? What about Micah?” _

_ “Baby, feed from him,”  _ Micah chimed in. 

_ “Why have you been so quiet?”  _ Harry asked. 

_ “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how much my actions have hurt you, Baby. I never meant for it to. I’ve been quiet because I’ve been contemplating. I’ll talk to you about it later. Feed from him. This isn’t sex. I want you safe.”  _

It was like their words activated the ardeur, and Harry leaned forward, pressing his palms to Dallas’ muscled chest and pressed his lips barely an inch away from his skin, and began to suck and breathe hot air as he began to slide down, down, down. He forced his heat into man, forced the desire and lust to the front, and all his needs and desires bubbled up. 

Dallas let out a noise, his eyes rounding as he gripped the back of Harry’s hair aggressively. “Fuck… what…” 

“I can’t touch you,” Harry breathed throatily. “I know the rules.”

“Fuck you can’t…” He shoved his fully erect cock up so that it smacked into Harry’s face as he got on his knees. “It’s my club, my rules.” 

“What are the rules then?” Harry breathed onto the cock.

“Anything unless I say stop.” Dallas began to grind, pushing Harry’s head into his crotch. Harry nuzzled him, using his face and breath to tease the long veined length. He rolled it around with his nose and chin, dragging his wet lips across without tasting; causing the precum to bubble to the surface. 

Harry used his face and his neck to tease and stir Dallas into rutting against him, and he ran his mouth up and up his chest, licking along the thin trail of coarse dark hair and back down again. Sucking at his desires and feeding the ardeur that latched on, sending Dallas into a heavy breathing frenzy. His skin began to turn a bright shade of red, and the sweat, as though he’d been fucking Harry senseless, rolled down his skin. Harry finally began to lick it, extending his tongue and following the trail, but he put his tongue back in when he got to Dallas’ cock. He nosed beneath the man’s cock and teased at his balls, and then glided his mouth along his hips, sucking down on the skin. 

“Fuck… fuck me.” 

“Now, now. I can’t do that. I’m a customer,” Harry purred, lapping at him like a cat up to one of the hip muscles and then biting down, sending Dallas’ hips forward along with a hand to grip the base of his cock. He smacked Harry in the face with it. 

Harry smirked as he teased and played with Dallas when a private show became the last thing on the man’s mind. He wanted Harry bent over, but nope, that was not about to happen. He drank from the skin around Dallas’ cock, sucking and feeding the lust as he pushed himself further up and then back down again. He used his lips, keeping them closed, but he kissed the very tip of the red swollen head. Like a shot, Dallas let out a cry and hot streams of white cum spilled out as Harry drained his lust and desire. Dallas couldn’t seem to stop, he was still hard, still wanton, and he was trying to force his way into Harry’s mouth that remained closed. His hips rutting against Harry with desperation, his whole body seizing and shaking. 

Harry teased with a single finger running from the sopping head down the length of the veins making Dallas’ hips twist. 

“Fuck… I can’t stop…” Harry rubbed his finger along the spilling eyehole as his ardeur consumed Dallas, sending him shivering as he pushed back into the wall to keep himself up. 

“You made a mess of me,” said Harry licking his lips at the salty cum. “I’m not sure if this is in regulation code, but that’s okay. It’s not my club after all. I have no one to answer to.” 

That was when Edward stepped forward, and tugged on Harry’s wild hair and tilted him. “Not bad, Little Raven. You’re a fast learner.” 

It wasn’t as good as sex to fill the ardeur, but he was satiated, and Dallas was still shaking violently, the cum was still draining out of his half hard cock. 

“I’m a mess,” Harry sulked. 

“You’re always a mess.” 

Harry staggered to his feet with a dizzy sensation. Dallas had slumped down now. “Do you want a job? Please?” 

Harry laughed as he conjured a rag to wipe off the cum. It was amazing how much he could get out of a man when the ardeur came calling. Usually it was inside of him so he didn’t notice how much was coming out. Edward looked amused. 

“No, Dallas, but thank you. You’re not so bad, but might I suggest you start checking ID’s? Ryan is one of my boys who can lose his control. It’s no fault of your own.” He then pulled out another hundred dollar bill, and handed it over to the staring ex-Marine. “For your time.” 

“Why do I feel like I should be paying you?” he grunted hoarsely. He took it anyway. No one could pass up a hundred bucks in a place like this. 

“If you see him here again, don’t let him in. I’ll leave a number for you to call if he does get in. That’s how you can pay me.” He smiled and turned to Edward “Shall we get out of here?” 

Owen was still standing by the booth, and was staring at Harry longingly. “Why not me?” 

“Sorry, darling,” Harry rubbed down his chest making the man shiver on contact. “Keep the money,” he whispered quiet enough so that Dallas couldn’t hear and tax it or take it. He didn’t know this man nor did he care, but if he was the boss, he might want to demand a cut. 

Nope. Owen earned it. 

Harry could feel cum caked in his hair, the rag wasn’t doing much, and his black leather was soaked and stained with flecks of drying fluid. He kept trying to wipe himself down, and was well aware of the stares he garnered. Owen had scurried on ahead of him, likely to tell all the other dancers that their boss, Dallas, had lost it and blew one hell of a load on a customer. 

There was probably some sort of sweet revenge in all of that, and so Harry let them at it. It was always nice to undermine a grouchy boss. 

_ “I resent that comment, mon Amour.”  _

Micah was laughing in Harry’s head. 

_ “I said grouchy, Jean. Not beautifully irritating.”  _

_ “So I am irritating?”  _

_ “Yes.”  _ All three of them answered causing Jean-Claude to laugh through all of them. 

_ “But we love you for it,”  _ Micah and Harry said simultaneously. 

_ “The Toy has his moments.” _ Edward pitched in causing Harry to giggle out loud. The three were making their way back to the front. Harry was still trying to get his outfit clean while Edward marched Ryan with a hand at his neck. 

“Oh my god, I would have fought to keep you longer if I had known!” Harry blinked at the black haired dancer from earlier as he ran into Harry. 

“You sure you don’t want to work here? We’d have a line out the door.” It was the other from the floor. 

“Found the person I was looking for, just on our way out. Excuse us.” Harry stepsided them and continued forward only to stop in shock as the next person blocking his way was the well endowed accountant from the bar. He was still naked. 

“I’ve a better show than Dallas. Want another round?” 

“Unfortunately I really need to get my friend home. He doesn’t do drunk well.” Harry really needed to get out of here. Too many desperate dancers.  _ Thank Merlin Jean’s employees are treated better. If they acted like this we’d be having words. _

“Please say you’ll come back! Even if just to dance.” The black haired one pressed into Harry’s back. 

“We’ll see.”  _ Never! _ After ten more minutes of delay from different employees coming up to him and begging him to stop by again, they finally made it out the door. Harry breathed a sigh of relief as the cool air brushed over them. 

Edward was holding onto his amusement, and he did well keeping his eyes blank. But the curve of his mouth was slight enough to make Harry sulk. 

Ryan staggered. “Oh, I don’t feel good.” 

“You should have thought about that when you came in here drinking. You know better than that. First year no more than two drinks a night, Ryan, and not going into bars for it considering your age,” Harry chastised. He admitted that he thought the twenty-one and over was a bit ridiculous when in the UK you could be seventeen. But if Ryan was picked up by the cops, he could have been outed as a wolf and then forced into one of those facilities. Harry couldn’t have that. Not on his watch. “You could have transformed on that man if you’d lost control.” 

Ryan bowed his head. “I’m sorry. I just… I wanted to have some fun.” 

“Then go to Guilty Pleasures on Wednesdays,” Harry told him. “It’s eighteen on Wednesdays as they don’t serve alcohol. Trust me, you’ll get a much better experience.” He shook his head. “Why did you even come here?” 

“I was horny,” Ryan confessed. “Guilty Pleasures you can’t have sex with them, and I was told we can’t have sex for at least six months.” 

Harry blinked at this, and then stopped walking and grabbed Ryan. “Who told you that you can’t have sex for at least six months?” 

“Brad.” 

“Did you bring this up to your mentor?” Brad did not ring any bells with Harry because there were at least six Brad’s in the pack. 

“No. He also told me I’d be punished if I slept with men. He said I could hurt them, and that the Ulfric has a no tolerance policy.” 

“What do you think I am, Ryan?” Harry placed his hands on his hips. “It’s true you can’t have sex with _ humans _ for the first year at least, but you’re allowed sex with other shifters and vampires, male or female. And while you can’t have sex at Guilty Pleasures. If you meet another shifter and you want to, you can so long as it’s outside of it. You can pick them up. Just, you know, not during business hours because of the laws.” It was actually encouraged because sex helped with control. If they learned control in the first year with sexual aggression most everything else would fall into place. Jason had learned this way, and many others had as well. Harry sighed. “You will be punished for drinking underage in bars, but I will let this whole club thing go, and have a serious talk with the other members of the pack about false information.” 

Ryan could only nod, his face had become more pale than expected, and his eyes flickered from one side to the other. “Oh man, I overdid it. I feel…” 

Harry seized him as Edward let go. Ryan stumbled as he was taken over to the brush. He fell on his knees and threw up everywhere. 

Harry sighed and knelt down to rub his back, doing his best to look away from the shuddering shifter and what he was doing. Yuck. 

“Ryan, you do understand if you’d been caught by the state police they’d have sent you to one of those God awful facilities right?” 

Ryan moaned. “I’m sorry, please, you won’t hurt me will you?” He whined through his choking. 

“No. I’m not that kind of Lupa,” Harry shook his head. “It would teach you nothing and only see you hurt. My job is to keep you safe, and I can’t do that if you’re threatening your own safety.” 

Before Ryan could respond, Harry raised his head to call for Edward when his eyes looked out across the field nearby and he saw something white sticking up from the ground. At first, he thought it might be a stump or some other brush of the field. 

“Edward.” 

“Yeah, I see it, Little Raven.” Edward was already on the move as Ryan, unbeknownst to anything going on stopped throwing up and turned to curl around Harry. 

Harry groaned at the man’s weight. He needed to get up and see what it was. “Stay right here, Ryan.” He told the younger wolf as he slipped out from beneath him. “I need to check something.” He thought better of it, and conjured some water in a glass. He handed it over, and quickly made his way toward Edward who was moving through the dry grass, his gun was out and aimed toward the ground as if ready to take a shot. Both of them were careful not to make a sound against their clothes as they crept along. Harry had his wand out. 

That was when they came into view of the body, and Harry knew it was dead. The skin had that paleness in the distant halogen lights and the cold light of the stars. It was a man this time, lying on his back, with that one arm propped up against a dead tree branch. If the hand hadn’t been propped up, Harry and Edward would not have seen or noticed it. Harry could pick up the recently dead, but he had also learned to shield out the ambiance of it. It could be too much when thousands of people died a day from accidents and natural causes. 

It was just like the girl at the first scene, how someone had taken a little extra effort to say, hey, look at me. He was wearing a leopard skinned thong that had been pulled aside so that they wouldn’t miss the fact that he was clean and shaved. It was obvious that he was a stripper, and likely one that worked inside. 

The fang marks on his neck were black against his skin. More at the bend of his arm and his wrist. Neither of them touched him to see if there was anything on his neck but Harry did crouch down, and tilted his head to try and see if there were any bites between his legs. 

Harry didn’t bother checking for a pulse, but he did reach out to touch minutely at the hand. He was ice to touch, but his skin pushed in meaning that rigor had either not set in or it had come and gone.

“Call this in, Little Raven,” said Edward examining the body. 

Harry stood, and pulled out the Blackberry. He searched his contacts to the bottom where Ze always sat. He’d have changed the name to Igor, but it would make finding his name harder, Merlin there were a lot of H and J names in his life. 

It rang twice. “Zerbrowski here.” 

“Hey Zeze, I hope you’re not at home,” said Harry, feeling wretched. 

“Why?”

“Because I’m over the river at Incubus Dreams looking at another dead body. It’s a man this time.” 

“No one notified us.” 

“No, because Edward and I just found him.” 

“Are you telling me that you found the body?” 

“Yep.” 

“Tell me what happened?” He could hear shuffling in the background, and the sound of Katie’s voice. 

Harry told him the short version, leaving out what he’d done in the backroom, but he did let Zerbrowski know that one of his wolves had called him having had too much to drink, and had to come get him. 

“Why you? I know that group is quite large from what you’ve told me.” 

“I’m Lupa and their emergency contact. Can you please keep the wolf part out when you tell the others? We’ve forbidden the new shifters from drinking more than two drinks a night and having any sort of sexual contact with humans. Just tell them one of my friends overdid it, and I set out to get him. All true.”

“Why?” 

“It’s dangerous, they need control first. It’s safer all around if they don’t.” 

“Well shit, Harry, this sucks. I have to call this in, and the staties and the local sheriff are going to get there before we do. The sheriff didn’t like you much.” 

“I remember, I have Edward with me.” 

“That’s a good start, and I feel like telling you to send your friend home, but everyone will be needed to corroborate your story.” 

“You don’t believe me?” Harry was shocked. 

“You know I do, Harry. But I won’t be first on scene. You understand that?” 

“Yeah, I do. I’m going to need an alibi to explain how I just so happened to find the next murder victim when they’ve got people patrolling all the clubs. They’re going to think that someone tipped me to it.” 

“Yep.” 

“You don’t think that’s true do you?” 

“I know better than that, Harry. You’re one of the only people I know who can go somewhere and just happen to find a murder victim.” 

Harry let out a tired snort. “Fate is a piece of work.” 

“Bitch more like.” 

“I was being nice, and is Katie listening to your language?” he teased. 

“Nope. Just got in my car.” 

“Good, otherwise you’ll be arriving with suds coming out of your mouth.” 

Zerbrowski laughed. “Don’t I know it? I’ll let the guys here at RPIT know that you weren’t trolling for men.” 

“Sure you will,” Harry didn’t believe that for one second. “But you know, if I’m going to troll for men, I’d do it where the men are plentiful and more delicious. Not here. So don’t besmirch my taste, Zeze.” 

Zerbrowski laughed. “Scouts honor. Can I ask you to be good if the Sheriff arrives first?” 

“I’ll do my best.” 

“Good, it’s going to be a long damn night.” He hung up, and so did Harry. 

Both Harry and Edward made their way back to the gravel parking lot where Ryan was laying in a fetal position with a groan. He’d been sick three more times. 

“Least we have a good alibi,” said Edward looking down at Ryan blankly. 

“Yeah. How many did you have, Ryan?” But the man couldn’t seem to answer, fading in and out of consciousness.

“Don’t wolves have more tolerance?” Edward asked unimpressed. 

“That’s not always a good thing. It doesn’t hit them quickly when they go for the hard stuff, and sometimes they drink more and more to try and feel the buzz, and by the time it does hit them they’ve consumed half a liquor cabinet.” Hagrid also used to do this. His girth and giant genes would let him not feel the effects of alcohol until he’d downed at least three bottles of Firewhiskey and then Merlin help if he had someone’s secrets. It would be a tell all. 

The sirens began to blare in the distance, and Harry resisted moaning like Ryan when he saw the cars squealing into the gravel lot, and the lead car was Sheriff Melvin Christopher. There wasn’t a state cop in sight. 

Lucky him. 


	18. Chapter Eighteen

The EMTs had given Ryan a blanket to huddle beneath, the fresh smell of vomit was still in the air, and it was obvious that he was three sheets to the wind. What did that even mean? Why would being drunk get compared to sheets in the wind? Harry would have to ask about that later. They had him sitting in the back of the open ambulance with an IV of saline fluid in his arm. Harry had checked on him, made sure he wasn’t about to fall unconscious and then made the walk over to where Sheriff Melvin Christopher was adjusting his belt and hat while staring up at the blank faced Edward who had conveniently pulled out his Federal Marshall jacket to put on before they got out of the car. 

Harry should have brought his, but it didn’t matter. 

Now, Edward wasn’t a big hulking guy. He was as average as average could be when it came to physicality, but the presence he had, it towered over the Sheriff. His shoulders square like a soldier, his arms linked behind his back, his two feet in perfect position shoulder width apart. He wasn’t moving if he didn’t want to. Harry wondered what he was playing right now. It didn’t look like Ted much, maybe Edward decided to stop playing because as dim as this Sheriff happened to be, even his radar senses were going off that Edward was a dangerous man. If the way he kept touching his holstered gun was anything to go by. 

“Is this your night job, Mr. Potter-Black?” The Sheriff taunted. “You frequent these bars so much after all.” 

“If only I had all the time in the night,” said Harry back without a single hint that he was annoyed. “I get kept busy when I’m not on call.” 

“I bet you do,” said Sheriff, his eyes searching Harry up and down. Harry wasn’t sure that he liked the look. It was part contemptuous, and almost… dare Harry say it? Curious. “It seems, Mr. Forrester here…” 

“Marshall,” Edward drawled out in a slow cool tone. “It would behoove you to use it appropriately.” He then turned fractionally to Harry. “I explained what we were doing here, I’m not sure he believes me.” 

“What? That my friend is three sheets to the wind and I came to get him out of here because you know it’s illegal to drink and drive?” 

“It’s convenient that you just happen to stumble upon the body.” 

“Certainly is,” said Harry. 

“Two Federal Marshalls?” 

“We are together. It’s no secret,” said Harry. 

“And what were you doing before you found the body?” 

“Retrieving my friend, Ryan over there. He was throwing up in the grass, right there, evidence if you need it. I saw an arm sticking up. Both of us did.” 

“Both of you? Just like that. A body drops and there you are?” 

“Yep.” 

“You are aware that you’re repeating yourself Sheriff?” Edward intervened.

“Just seems convenient.”

“Anything more enlightening you want to ask? Or can we get on with it? How much more showboating do we have to do?” Harry drawled, losing a bit of his diplomacy on the grounds that this guy was an arse. 

“Can anyone in the - ah - club collaborate your story?” 

“Everyone,” Harry answered. “Go on. Ask them.” 

That was when Deputy Douglas came over with an odd expression on his face, and Harry saw that Owen was directly behind him. “Uh, Sheriff, this - er - dancer told me that they’d been with both the Marshalls all night.” He looked very red in the face. 

“Spit it out!” Sheriff ordered him. 

Owen grinned, he was still shirtless, in nothing but his shorts, but he had sneakers on. “I didn’t know they were Marshalls when they came in hunting for their friend.” He turned to face Harry, “you sure we can’t convince you to come by more often? Dallas, Greg, Rich, Sam, and I all had fun. Even just stopping by would see more crowds. Also, Sam wanted me to ask where you got the outfit as he wants something similar.”

Harry resisted grinning wide when the Sheriff’s eyes grew extra round, and Douglas’ face transformed from red to a purple shade. “Hi Owen, glad the guys had fun but you know I was just here to pick up Ryan. Making me dance just to get a view of the whole club was an intriguing idea, works on a stage better. Tell Sam to call me and I’ll put him in touch with my friend Draco who shops for this kind of clothing all the time.” Harry passed over a card with his home phone number on it. 

“Greg still wants an answer on the bigger question too.” Owen winked, “Dallas said you’re welcome to come anytime.” 

“Isn’t that my line?” Harry fired back, and Owen barked in laughter. 

“Yes, I guess it is. Please come back!”

As Owen walked away, the Sheriff had a nasty look on his face. “So, you’re not just coffin bait, but a whore too?” 

“You want to be careful using that kind of language in this political day and age,” said Harry with a light tone of annoyance. He could feel Edward about to pull his gun and end them. “Lawsuits are plentiful, and what I do with my off time is not your concern. I could fuck this whole club if I wanted to, and you have no right to tell me I can’t. Just like you can fuck any poor woman that’ll have your bigoted homophobic arse and it’s none of my damn business.” 

Both the Sheriff and Deputy were left speechless, and Harry had no more use for him and was about to walk away with Edward when the radios on the black and white cars crackled to life enough to stop everyone from blowing their top. 

“Officer down, officer down!” 

Location was just down the road at the first strip bar that the vampires hit. Ambitious bastards. Harry and Edward didn’t hesitate as they rushed to the Escalade together. Edward slid behind the wheel.  _ “Micah can you come and get Ryan at Incubus Dreams?”  _

_ “On it. Everything okay, Baby?”  _

_ “Probably not. Officer down at the first bar the vampire’s hit.”  _

_ “Be careful, both of you!”  _ Jean-Claude called out over the line. 

Edward sped out of the gravel ahead of the Sheriff, soon after one of the EMT’s was following behind them with the Sheriff behind him with lights and sirens blaring the whole way. 

“Do you know where you’re going?” 

“More than enough not to follow that worthless idiot.” 

“Least they didn’t notice the smell or the white stains,” said Harry checking his gun and ammo. 

“I think they got more than enough from the dancers inside. I’m impressed that you didn’t get angry.” 

Harry shrugged. “You can’t change bigoted arses like him and he is, as you said, worthless. Why would I waste time getting angry at him?” 

“Well learned, Little Raven.” 

Harry leaned over and pecked his cheek. “From you, after all.” 

They were the first officers on the scene because they’d been less than ten minutes away. The sounds of the sirens continued to wail through the black night with more help on the way. An Illinois State Trooper car stood in the parking lot with one door open, and the officer slumped, sitting by the door. His face was a white blur, one arm looked injured, and his gun was clasped awkwardly in his other hand. There was blood on the shoulder of his uniform. 

Everyone hit their doors, and they took cover behind them or the engine block. It was never a good idea to just run straight for the injured trooper, and Harry couldn’t use his magic to call him in case he was alive and not dead. It would just make it worse. Not to mention give enemies alarm that there was magic floating around, and the conditions would change dramatically. So Harry followed directly behind Edward, keeping to the wheel of the Escalade, everyone’s guns were out and pointed at the ground. 

The Sheriff made a motion with his arms that cut off all the sirens, and the silence boomed loud over the lot with only the strobing red and blues that let others know something was going down. Harry and Edward scanned the parking lot and the surrounding area. There was a privacy fence behind the dumpsters. There were other buildings within a few yards. The parking lot was packed. 

“Do you sense anything?” 

Harry reached his magic out to touch all the looky-loos who were too stupid to stay inside. Nothing felt like vampire. “No.” 

Once the Sheriff gave the all clear, everyone stood, breaking cover, and converged forward. Edward remained cautious, scanning the area because if Jean-Claude couldn’t feel him, Harry might not be able to either. 

“Get the EMTs up here!” shouted someone. 

One of the officers trotted off to let the medics know it was safe to come out. The Sheriff glared at Harry. “It was one of your vampire friends.” 

“Yes, because every Ted Bundy and Jeffery Dahmer is your friend too,” Harry snarked back coldly. That caught them by surprise, no one expected such a response. “What about the Zodiac? Oh wait, you never caught him, and he wasn’t a vampire considering his day killings. Are you looking for a group of them? Let’s see, how about the boys of Columbine? Hell’s Angels? Klu Klux Klan? Nazi’s? Friends of yours? Sons of yours? I didn’t think so. So keep your ignorance to yourself.” 

They reached the trooper with the Sheriff silent as the grave. The Trooper spoke in a voice that was strained low with pain and shock. “Bastards flew off with her. Flew up like fucking birds, straight up.” 

“Who did they take?” Harry asked. 

“One of the dancers,” said the trooper. “I was making a drive-through like we’re supposed to. Saw her come out, and saw them just come out of the shadows, one on each side of her. She started screaming. I got out, pulled my gun, but there was another one. I didn’t see him. I don’t know why, but it was like he just appeared behind me. He put the knife to my throat, told me to watch. Then the others just flew away with the girl. They fucking flew away!” He closed his eyes and looked like he was struggling through the pain. 

EMT’s flooded the scene pushing them all back, but the Trooper opened his eyes and reached out to Harry rather than the Sheriff. “Why? Why didn’t he kill me? You’re the fucking expert. He had a switchblade, drove it into my shoulder. Why?” 

Harry calmly knelt down. “He wanted you alive, so you could tell us what you saw,” he said solemnly. 

“Why?” 

“It’s a message.” 

“What message?” 

“They want us to come and save her. They want to force us to move tonight, while they’re strong, not wait until dawn when the advantage is ours.” 

Harry backed away to let the EMTs do their job. Sheriff Christopher stood up and reached for Harry only for Edward to suddenly be standing there, and that stopped him in his tracks. “Last I heard we didn’t know where these bastards were hiding. You sound like you know.” 

Harry stared at him blankly. “It’s my  _ friendliness _ with vampires that got us more information to put a stop to this. Otherwise they’ll keep on, the Mobile Reserve are scheduled to go in just after dawn, but if they’ve got a hostage…” he looked at Edward. “What should we do?” 

“It’s a trap,” said Edward. 

“Yes, I know, but the question is do we go in or not? Do we walk into it? Mobile Reserve are going to be as good as dead if they do.” 

“You have the warrants, the reserve doesn’t.” 

“You have the warrants?” spat Christopher. 

“He is the Equalizer,” Edward replied as though it were that simple. “Call them, let’s see how much fun we can have.” 

“Fun? You call this fun?” Christopher barked. “All these dead women and my officer down?!” He looked like he was about to have a heart attack, and neither of them cared. 

Edward smiled at him in a way that had him and the others drawing back. It was cold and icy, deadly. It was empty and full of the very thing that terrified them laying down. It showed them just how little he thought of them. “Oh yes, chasing something that’ll kill us in an instant if you step in the wrong direction. Yes, Sheriff, it’s quite a lot of fun. It’s why we’re the executioners and equalizers. It’s why we are the only permanent death in the community of rogue shifters and vampires. It’s our friendliness and acceptance that has taught us everything about our enemies, otherwise the street will be red and you simple  _ God-fearing _ folk would be dead.” He turned to Harry who wasn’t hot at all after seeing that display of his Edward come out to play. Fuck no. He wasn’t hot at all. Nope. Somewhere inside, he could hear Jean-Claude and Micah chuckling. “Call Parker, give him the address, Little Raven. Let’s go have our fun.” 

Harry grinned, and began to dial only for his phone to ring before he could hit the send button. “Potter-Black.” 

“Tell me everything.” It was Captain Parker. 

“I was just about to call you, sir…” And he told the Captain everything, causing him to swear. 

“I don’t want to send my men in to die, Potter-Black.” 

“Then don’t. Ted and I will go in on our own. It’s our warrants anyway.” 

“You know this is a trap?” 

“Yep.” 

“And you’re going in? She might not even be alive anymore.” 

“Doesn’t matter, they want us there, and if we don’t they might continue, and turn it into a spree until dawn. More kidnappings, more cop attacks that will end in murder rather than just a ruse, the works. It won’t stop, Parker,” said Harry so convincingly that he had Parker shuddering a breath over the connection. “It did this in New Orleans, and it landed a half a dozen police and marshalls either dead or in the ICU.” 

“Fuck, no win situation. It’s going to be a trap.” 

“Yep.” 

A long deep breath was taken. “Fine, Potter-Black. You win, although I don’t know how much this is called a win, and I’m tired of the FBI breathing down my neck. Get you and Forrester here asap or we go in without you! You have thirty minutes.” He hung up, and Harry and Edward were already on the go. 

“Where the hell are you going?” Sheriff Christopher squawked.

“To take the bait,” said Harry over his shoulder without looking back at him dogging them. 

“The stripper, you mean? Mobile Reserve is really taking you guys in with them?” 

Harry and Edward didn’t bother as Harry flung the driver door open and dived over to the passenger side as Edward climbed in after him. 

He looked like he wanted to say something nasty, but Edward placed his palm on top of the steering wheel, his gun in hand, safety was off, and he gave the Sheriff a dead look that sent Harry reeling inside. All cylinders began to fire one by one. It’d been way too long since he was side by side with Edward going to a gun fight. Fuck he’d missed it. “Anything else you need to say Sheriff?” he asked in such a good ol’ boy tone that it was hard to hold in. 

“Nothing at all,” said Christopher with a tip of his hat. “Nothing at all,” he repeated, and Edward slammed on the gas and peeled out of the parking lot with the gravel spitting. 

“Thank Merlin I’ve fed the ardeur.” It was all Harry could come up with as he summoned a gym bag of weapons from beneath the floorboard of the back of the Escalade. “Because I’ve missed this, Edward.” 

“So have I, Little Raven,” he said stomping on the gas, and not bothering with any such speed traps, no one would notice them. 

It was good to have magic. 

oOo

Harry and Edward stood in the safe-house location a block away from the condo. There was a dry erase board covered with diagrams. Sergeants Hudson and Melbourne had done a recon of the area before the rest of them got set up. They’d covered the whiteboard with entries and exits, lights, windows, and all the tiny details that Edward approved of. 

Harry on the other hand was more of the doer rather than the planner, but he had to say he was impressed. Minute by minute strategy was not something that Harry had excelled in. He was the wild card, and he was proud of it. 

Edward earned their respect almost instantly when he pointed out a half a dozen flaws, and even took the red marker to point them out. 

Harry on the other hand looked like a high school boy amongst a crowd of big hefty men. His only saving grace was the fact that most of them had seen him on camera walk up to Van Anders and shoot him without prompt, and still they were not convinced that he should be there. 

But then, his name was on the warrants, not anyone else’s. Not even Edward’s name was on the warrant. It was Harry’s name. The Mobile Reserve would be unable to do anything without risking their lives and careers if Harry wasn’t with them. It was put into play to keep the cops from becoming assassins themselves, and ending up dead because police and assassin work were two different things. 

He managed to keep his face neutral, not show boredom, but definitely not showing interest because really, how was this interesting to him? He was only wearing part of the reserve uniforms. A bullet proof vest that Harry thought was absolutely pointless, and a pair of black knee pads which made Harry feel like he was at a little league game about to play catcher. He and Edward both denied the helmets on principal though Edward and Harry did have bandanas around their necks in case it was needed to hide their mouths and noses, and clear glass lenses over their eyes in case of shrapnel. 

Harry had said no to the machine gun, and had gone with the high powered shotgun that Edward had gotten him for Valentine’s Day. Yes, you heard it. Edward bought him a very high standard shotgun that was light weight, and fit well with his smaller frame with extra shots. It’d been a gun worth more than most of the equipment in the room. It didn’t look like much, but the punch it packed was nasty. He also had a sawed off shotgun that Edward had tailored for him. It was strapped to his back with an easy swoop sling around his arm and neck so that he could switch with a touch of his magic and waste no time. He also had a thigh holster rigged for extra ammo. 

Harry was going to play it safe, save his magic for the master if he was in there. But, Harry was doubting it. For some reason, Harry didn’t feel as if the master was going to be there at all, and this was a waste of time. But, then like Edward would say, do not underestimate the situation. It was better to overestimate and live than underestimate and get killed. 

The men in the room were Killian, Melbourne, Jung, and a whole small fleet of others crouching down and listening to their Captain with perfect attention. 

Harry did suggest putting the sniper where he could see the windows, and not at the front door. One they didn’t know what they looked like, so the sniper couldn’t just drop the people coming out the front, and vampires could take many exits that weren’t doors. He reminded them of their abilities to fly. 

“Is that possible?” asked Melbourne. 

“Definitely, and I know the master can fly for a fact. Almost all masters can, now who else can or cannot fly is up for debate, but they will and they can.” His mind traveled back to Branson, and Xavier. How Xavier had come in through the window to try and get Jeff Quinlan. 

He wondered how the kid was doing? Ellie hadn’t returned to Branson, even when she got control of her blood hunger. She didn’t want to go back to her religious father who would only condemn her further, but she talked to Jeff a lot on the phone, and sometimes her mother. 

“Not to mention they don’t get torn apart if they jump from a high window,” said Edward. “They’d land on their feet.” 

“Like a cat?” A man named Officer Derry asked. 

“Something like that.” 

The woman that had been taken was named Dawn Morgan. She was twenty-two and brunette about shoulder length hair with pretty blue eyes. It was kind of sad that the only photograph that they had to go on was from the club’s website that showed a lot of skin with only her hands and silk cloth to hide her more intimate details. 

Hudson then turned to Harry with a pursed expression. “Captain told me that you have magic and I have no choice but to let you use it.” 

“Yep,” said Harry.

“I don’t like wild cards on my team.” 

“Then I can leave, and take my warrant with me,” said Harry genially. “Some people forget that it was me who did the inviting, not the other way around.” 

“Is it true?” Killian asked. 

“What?” 

“Did you fuck a vampire to get it?” 

Harry arched a brow. “If you mean ‘fuck’ by raiding the shit out of his mind, then I suppose so. But I’m not sure how pleasant that would feel in the long run.” 

“You went into his mind?” asked Jung. 

“Yep. I only use my magic when I have to, and no longer rely on it as a crutch. I don’t want the enemy to know what I can use, so the baby vampires won’t be getting a taste of my magic unless I have no choice. It’s the master who will get it.” If he’s there. “Ted broke his neck, I raided his mind.” 

“If you break someone’s neck by hand then they’re dead.” 

“Not a vampire, they can live so long as that heart and head are still attached. In fact a broken neck would theoretically heal within an hour or two or with blood intake.” 

As everyone made last minute preparations, the team was more and more surprised by the weapons Harry and Edward kept pulling out of their pockets and off their belts. Harry handed him the extra silver ammo that had silver nitrate, two magazines each should do it, not counting the rest hidden upon them. Hell, they could take out half of St. Louis with what they’d brought. 

Melbourne whistled. “Where’d you get that piece?” he asked appreciatively. 

“Valentine’s gift,” said Harry grinning cheekily. 

“Who would get you a shotgun for Valentine’s Day?” asked Baldwin, the tall man who was going to hold the shield with the window. 

“Me,” said Edward. “Practical gift that keeps on giving.” 

“Yep.” 

“So, the rumors about you and the Master of the City aren’t real?” asked Killian wide-eyed. 

“No, they’re real,” said Harry idly. 

More blinks were sent their way, and Edward smirked. “I like watching.” 

That made everyone laugh or splutter, Hudson shook his head. “I don’t need to know.” 

“Then tell them to stop asking or tell me to lie,” Harry said sweetly. 

They were soon huddled outside behind a van in front of the condo. It was a two-toned paint job that looked absolutely horrid. Draco and Jean-Claude would not approve though for others it would be seen as an architectural wonder. Outside was old, the inside was ultra modern and coldly empty. 

Harry wanted to push his powers through the walls to check how many were in there, but if they were as good as Harry feared they would sense it. He looked at Edward for confirmation, and he shook his head once. They’d have to go in blind, and they were going in right behind Hudson. Edward would say that he was a convenient shield for them, but Harry wasn’t quite at that level yet. 

It was always best to give any preternatural the element of surprise, and someone with Harry’s power was definitely that surprise. 

“Potter-Black you will move when I move. You are my fucking shadow until I tell you different. You will follow my direct orders once we’re inside or I will cuff you and leave you with a guard, is that clear?” Hudson spoke plain and firm. 

_ He could try it, _ Harry thought, but instead of being a smartarse he smirked. “Crystal.” On a technicality, if he was outside, the warrants wouldn’t cover them, and they’d get in big arse trouble if they survived. 

Officer Baldwin manned the huge metal body shield with the window. He had the height over the rest of them. Using a small explosive charge they blew the door followed by a flash bang grenade being chucked inside of it, and the group of them slipped inside in the wake of the stunning noise and blinding light. When the light faded, the only light came from the sweeps of the men’s flashlights mounted to their guns, and then it was chaos. 

Not the chaos of a fight because no one was in the first room, but the chaos of trying to shuffle behind the shield and not trip or trip someone else. They shuffled as a unit, but it was quick like running inside a shell of bodies. 

Thanks to the briefing, Harry knew the layout of the condo as well as his own house. The big empty living room, the small enclosed kitchen, the hallway beyond the guest bathroom left and the guest room right. It was a straightforward layout. Nothing like Harry’s loopy halls and endless stairs and crevices. 

Harry could feel a soul hovering, death was all around them, and let out a quiet hiss as he looked at Edward. He could smell the blood nearby. Edward sensed it too. Hudson spoke in the mic through their earpieces, a whisper even with him standing right behind him. “Mendez, Derry, kitchen!” 

The two of them peeled away from the lined up group. Edward remained at Harry’s back who was at Hudson’s. 

The radio sounded in all their ears. “Vic, female, not Morgan.” 

“Vamp bites?” 

“Yes.” 

“Potter-Black, check it out.” 

Harry didn’t hesitate, and Edward immediately followed without needing prompting. He knew the man was doing it to get him out of the way, and if he wanted to die that was fine with them. Harry wouldn’t bother if he got himself killed. 

Harry moved in a speedy blur before Derry could even leave the kitchen. 

“Stay with Potter-Black until he’s checked the body.” 

Harry knew instantly what he was going to find because he could smell it. Not just the blood, old blood, but that meaty fluid smell and the whiff of sex. It was old and stale. Male sex. 

She lay spread eagle on the small four seater table. Her legs had folded over the edge of the table, and her groin was splayed in a line for the door, so the view was painfully clear. She’d been brutally assaulted and for that much damage Harry had no doubt that it wasn’t just by a body part. She was wearing what looked like a silver sequined bikini with pantyhose beneath it. 

Harry could only imagine how many missing persons they truly had. 

Mendez squatted down and peered beneath the table. “What is that?” 

“Wine bottle,” Edward answered. 

“God.” Mendez hissed, and he must have hit the button by accident because Hudson heard him. 

“What is it, Mendez?” Hudson asked over the headsets. 

“Sorry, sir, just, this was a bad way to die.” 

“Steady, Mendez.” 

“That didn’t kill her,” Harry said standing up. Mendez moved with Harry and Edward, his eyes flashed white through the mask and gear. Harry pointed at her neck, breast, and arms. “They bled her to death.” 

“Before?” 

He shook his head. “But multiple bites means she’s dead. She can’t be a vampire. The body is checked out.” He didn’t bother to ask to return. He left with Edward, Denny and Mendez right behind him. 

Before they could step out of the kitchen the loud earsplitting shrill of a woman’s scream came high from deeper into the apartment. Edward and Harry were the only two who didn’t flinch, and their eyes narrowed in time when the entire squad abandoned all reason and rushed down the hall, forgetting the shield and all tactical commands that they’d spent two hours going over. 

“Idiots,” Edward hissed, without the comm on. 

“Yep. Shall we?” 

It was bodies and flashlights, brilliant flood of irritating white light from the damn crosses, and shots being fired with nothing getting hit. It was mayhem, more vampires than seven, more than they could count on their fingers were moving in packs and swooping in like birds of prey. 

Edward and Harry took each other’s backs, stepping over the bodies that had fallen. Harry shot the one on top of Melbourne in the head, and then reared back to shoot another that was crawling at Edward’s feet. 

Screams of the squad wrenched the air, and Harry turned in time to see Jung rolling on the floor, a frenzied vampire clamped on his back, and his holy item doing not a thing to stop it. It was so bright that most were blinded by their own items. Baldwin had fallen, and Edward sank three shots in quick succession, shifted and sank another into an awaiting vamp. 

Both he and Harry, in hyper focus mode, worked the crowd to source them out; seeing nothing but their enemies and making sure to keep each other’s back in time. When something got too close to Edward, Harry picked it off. If it got too close to Harry, it’s head would explode. Harry flung out his magic causing the frenzied vamp on Jung to go flying into the nearby wall with a crash. Vampires poured out, more than seven shooting for them. “High!” Edward called. 

“Low!” Harry and Edward shot in practiced time. He took the heads, Harry took the hearts, each one picked off as though it were a video game at an arcade only to switch because you know calcium liked to build up the higher you raise a gun or any object. 

Harry switched ammo first as Edward kept shooting, and once he picked up the pace Edward was reloading second. You never reloaded at the same time as your partner.  _ Ever _ . They moved through the room, Harry using his magic to shoot the unprepared officers aside before anymore of them could get eaten. Hudson let out a shout, and Harry turned to see three moving in on him. Harry shot them in the head causing them to explode in perfect timing. As two more converged on their location, Harry swung around and that was when he felt the strength. 

“Edward!” 

“On your six.” 

It was subtle, and so while Edward shot at the vampires coming at them Harry dropped his shields and raised his magic, and fire spun out of his hands in the direction of the wall away from the fight. 

“What are you doing?!” Hudson was right there on him, and before Harry could even bother answering, the thing came out of shadows. It was lit on fire and snarling as it rushed them. It’s power strong and high, flowing through the room sending several of the team crashing into walls. Harry stood at the ready. “Shit!” 

Harry dropped his gun and flung his power out, sending the vampire flying once again into the wall only for it to dive faster than anything most would have seen. It clamped down on Harry’s forearm when he brought it up to defend himself. It gnashed and snarled, pulling Harry’s small weight around, and turning into a rabid dog and slinging him around too, making it impossible for anyone to get a shot. 

Harry went flying to the floor with the creature on top of him, Harry used his magic to turn the tables as it continued to gnaw and scratch at him, its pain from the flames pouring through him. Harry managed to get a leg up, and it grabbed his throat. It ripped through the torc and sank it’s claws into his throat sending him straight through the wall with a resounding crash. 

Harry knew from the way it looked and the way it felt that it was not Vittorio, and the moment he got above it, his wand was already out and pointed. 

“Avada Kedavra!” The flaming vampire’s eyes and the bright emerald green spell blinded the entire room in a flood of vibrant color, and the vampire dropped, releasing him instantly. 

Edward had a litter of bodies flowing around him blown apart with bits of meat scattered around him, he was drenched from head to toe in blood and other things. His face perfect and cold, power brewing out of him in such a subtle way that it could catch his breath. 

Hudson was heaving against the wall, three of his own vampires dead on the ground. Jung was nursing his bite with a hand clasped to his neck, and Mendez was helping him keep upright against the wall. His neck was torn up, but the blood wasn’t gushing, which was good news. 

Harry had his own wounds, his neck was bleeding and the bite on his arm was oozing. He was pretty sure his left arm was broken. But who cared? 

Now the newbie vampires were cringing away. No longer supped up on the master’s power, two of them were huddling at the corner of the bed. Both of them were wrapped around each other. One of them, a female, had her bloody face against the corner behind the bed, her small hands held out as if to ward them off. At first it looked like she was wearing red gloves, but the scent was too strong for that. It was blood to her elbows. She had been the one who had attacked Melbourne who was now motionless on the floor in front of her. Mendez had his gun trained, but didn’t shoot her like he should have. 

“Please! Please no!” she begged. “Don’t kill us, please! He made me. He made me!” 

“She’s begging for her life!” Mendez choked. 

“It doesn’t matter, shoot her,” Harry ordered. “Shoot her.” 

Killian was moving up by the bed to check on the victim, her eyes were glazing over, and Harry knew she wasn’t going to make it. 

Mendez glanced away from the vampire and back at Harry and Edward. “I can’t shoot someone begging for her life.” 

“That’s okay, there’s a reason why we’re here,” said Harry. 

“No!” He pleaded. “No.” He shook his head. 

“Step back, Mendez,” said Hudson hoarsely. 

“Sir… it’s not right.” 

“Are you refusing a direct order, Mendez?” 

“No, sir, but-” 

“Then step back and let the Marshall’s do their job,” he said sharply, and finally Mendez moved back. 

“Go stand by your sergeant,” Harry ordered. 

“But…” 

“Mendez. I want you here, now.” 

It wasn’t the police’s fault, all of them were trained to save lives, not take them. But Harry and Edward were different. Harry dropped his gun, and picked up the sawed off shot-gun. Edward mimicked him, double checking the ammo as both of the vampires cried for their lives. 

And without warning, Harry and Edward fired one shot each into their head, and then another into their hearts leaving nothing but blood and meat behind. 

That was when Mendez’ voice came over the mic. “We’re supposed to be the good guys.” Harry and Edward just looked at each other. 

“Shut up, Mendez,” Jung said in a voice that was choked thicker than it should have.

Harry moved to kneel by Jung, and pulled out a blood restorative potion. “Here, take it.” He ordered. 

“What-? Check Mel,” he whispered. 

Edward did for him, though it was useless. 

“How is he?” Jung asked, trying to turn only to wince. Harry was coaxing the potion into the man’s mouth and down his throat. 

“Hudson,” Edward snapped his fingers, and Hudson was there so suddenly. Harry backed off once the Potion made its way into Jung, he also conjured up some bandages as Edward took him by the arm and dragged him close as Hudson brought in back up with bags and boxes. 

“Let me see you, Little Raven. You got bit pretty hard there,” said Edward, taking his arm and then turning his chin with a finger to check the neck that had rake marks going down it. 

“Not too bad,” said Harry. 

“Hn, you lost your gift. It should be around here somewhere,” said Edward scanning the room full of bodies as Mendez came over. 

“How could you look her in the eyes and do that?” he asked desperately. 

Harry turned to see that the man had taken his mask and helmet off. Harry covered the mike with his hand in case of accidents. “She tore Melbourne’s throat out.” 

“She said the other vampire made her do it. Is that true?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Then how could you shoot her?” 

“I had to.” 

“Who died and made you judge, jury, and ex-” 

“Equalizer, Mendez. Equalizer. I’m not an executioner, but in this instance I am. It’s my job, that’s what makes me and Ted so different. You are in the business of saving lives, we’re not. We always come in at the end. If Ted and I are coming - it’s their end. No two ways about it. You are the beginning, and we are the end. There was a reason the warrant was in my hands or in Ted’s hands.” 

“I thought we were the good guys,” he said with a crack in his voice. 

“You are good. It’s us that’s not good because we can’t afford to be. If we’re the good guys, then more people die.” 

Mendez seemed to be trying to understand, his brow that dripped sweat was crinkling, the pain on his face plain to see. “But… you like vampires.” 

“I like the individual, Mendez. I don’t judge a person based on species.” 

“But, how could you-?” 

Harry really thought about Mendez’ questions in that moment. “It’s because your laws don’t give me another option and because she’s not human, we can’t just take her in. I agree there needs to be a serious fixing, but unfortunately, I have to do this job until there is a fixing.” 

That was when Hudson stepped up and touched Mendez on the back. “Mendez, go get some air. That’s an order.” 

Mendez looked at them both before he went for the door, Edward was kicking his foot around the bodies near the master vampire. Hudson watched Mendez go as Harry watched Edward. “I was wrong.” 

Harry blinked in surprise at this. “Huh?” 

“He doesn’t understand what you do. None of us did. I thought you nothing but an assassin.” 

“You’re not wrong,” said Harry.

“But, I was. You were ready and prepared weren’t you? It was like you and Forrester have been doing this all your lives. I’ve only been doing it for a year or two, and I’m the highest ranked,” said Hudson, and it sounded a wee bit envious, a wee bit annoyed, and a wee bit relieved at the same time. 

“Close enough. Ted taught me everything I know. So he should get the credit.” 

“Not true, Little Raven,” said Edward who never raised his head. “You came to me with the skills of your magic and a will to survive. I just gave you weapons training.” 

“In the movies, the vampires look peaceful. Nothing here looks peaceful.” 

Harry shook his head and waved behind him. “Every species has monsters, Hudson.” 

“Looks like I owe you. More would have died if not for you and Forrester, that master… you saw him and used your magic? What kind of magic was that?” 

“It only works on vampires and ensouled zombies,” Harry lied with ease. “My magic is not the same as the Wiccans you know. It’s born and bred through me by blood. I come from a whole world of it, seek the MACUSA if you are wondering.” 

Hudson nodded. “Hm, I think I’ve heard of it before, in passing.” 

“That’s me.” 

It was almost daylight by the time they breathed the fresh June air, but the scent of blood and meat remained as the EMT’s made Harry sit as he was patched up. Bodies were being pulled out, the wounded on stretchers. As far as the eye could see the red and blue strobe lights blazed, and the entirety of the street was blocked off by emergency vehicles. Including a firetruck in case one of the dead vampires burst into flames with the coming dawn. 

Edward had remained inside, told Harry to go on out and get medical attention. Hudson had taken him out at the order, and so now here he was watching the sky turn a brilliant deep salmon orange, the breath of cool air on his skin. 

“What’s eating you, Potter-Black?” Hudson asked. 

“Vittorio.” 

“Who?” 

“He’s the master vampire, and he wasn’t in the condo.” 

“What?” Hudson’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding?” 

“No. As you know, I know vampires, so I asked about him. There wasn’t a single Arabic man in that room, Hudson.” 

“What about the master you killed?” 

“He was a young master or a makeshift master with powers given to him by Vittorio to fool us. This master is at least a thousand or more years old. We didn’t get all of them.” Merlin, if this vampire was so strong that he could give that kind of power to a non-master vampire and fool Harry into thinking it was a master - that was ridiculous. Not even Liv felt like a master with Traveler’s power through her. 

“There were dozens, Potter-Black. Are you sure you’re not jumping at shadows?” 

“Does it look like I am? I’m stating a fact. DNA will come back, and something is going to be missing. They did this to Denis-Luc St. John in New Orleans before they fled. Coincidence?” 

“I think you’re exhausted, Potter-Black. You did good work, but you need to rest.” 

Harry hated it when he was treated like a child. He was patted on the back and Hudson walked away leaving Harry slumping his shoulders forward, and raking his fingers through his messy hair making it even more messy. 

“I’ve never seen hair defy so much gravity in my life,” said the female EMT having noticed it. “It’s not even static. You remind me of Cloud in a way.” 

“Who?” Harry asked, tilting his head. 

She giggled and shook her head. “Nothing. How are you feeling?” 

“Better, thank you ma’am.” 

“You stay here and rest as you need.” 

“How are the others?” 

“Alive, whatever you gave the one with the throat wound saved his life.” 

Harry nodded. “Good.” 

As the EMT walked away, he saw Edward in the distance drawing closer, and it was quite a lovely sight to see him move so steadily against the slowly rising sun. He had such a presence about him, even with the blood caked over him. 

He approached Harry blocking some of the sun, but who needed such light when he had the ice cold man in front of him? “He’s not dead is he?” 

“Nope. Vittorio was not up there.” 

“Looks like we’ll be having more fun soon,” said Edward casually. 

Harry arched a brow and searched the blank face that meant the world to him. “What were you doing in there for so long?” 

Edward held out his closed fist and opened it to show the diamonds was all that was left. It said JC. “Unfortunately, the torc sustained too much burn damage. But diamonds are forever.” 

They glimmered in the soft lighting as Harry leaned forward to examine them. “Is this a proposal?” He meant it in jest, but Edward’s face went serious for a moment. 

“If you want it to be.” 

“If only...” Harry breathed reaching for the diamonds only for Edward’s fist to close around his fingers, and pull him close. Harry shivered and took in Edward’s scent beyond the blood and sweat. He swooped up around Edward’s neck and kissed him softly. Edward wrapped his arms around Harry and held him really tight. 

“I will give you whatever you desire, Little Raven,” Edward growled as he trailed a hand down his back. 

“Just you, Jean, and Micah.” It’s all he wanted. It’s all he needed. 

Edward pulled back and smirked. “Done.” 

_ -Fin- _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done with another story. Thanks for joining us on this long journey. Looking forward to traveling through #14, which takes place one month after this in July 2007, with all of you! 
> 
> Summary: Vittorio is still out there, everything has gone quiet, and Jean-Claude is busy as a bee. It’s almost Harry’s birthday and there will be more than dancing arriving in St. Louis. Harry’s life is one event after another, and Fate is still a five letter word, and what’s this about having a claim on the werelions? Huh? And just who the hell died and made him the potential Regina? Who was deciding this? Because, Harry didn’t decide anything. He’s caught between multiple preternaturals that want him for their own, and then there are the tensions rising between Harry’s men and the Ulfric. 
> 
> Book: Danse Macabre

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 4th American readers! (belated-Happy Canada Day to Canadian readers!)
> 
> This takes place 2 months after the last, only Teddy has aged (now he's 9!)


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